The Love Boat
by AKA DD
Summary: Challenge Fic: Max and Alec go on an EO Mission on a Tropical Honeymoon Cruise. In between the spying, and the fighting, What else could possibly happen on The Love Boat? Romance/Humor/Angst
1. Chapter 1: By Accident

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine, isn't affiliated with me, nor is making me any money.**

**A/N: I know, I know…ANOTHER CHAPTER FIC? Have I gone nuts? Probably. I couldn't help myself. Anyway, Speed Dial is almost over, so is Identical, so I figured, I'd start another one. I'm apparently a glutton for punishment. This is a response, that I promised sometime in…oh, JULY to Candy Centric, to her challenge as quoted below:**

"**_Bunny 3_** **_- crusin' the Caribbean - I was shocked, nay, horrified, to learn there has never been a story about Max & Alec being on a cruise together._**

+ Points for 

**_A) M/A going on the cruise for some sort of mission - An EO mission maybe? To meet a contact? It's up to you. _**

**_B )Not having M/A be a couple, at least not before they get on the boat. Er, ship. _**

**_C) NO NC17 (are you seeing a reoccurring theme here yet?) Or if that's what you want it as - Can you make a lower rated counterpart? Please?_**

**_D )Making the title "The Love Boat"."_**

**So, for CC: here's The Love Boat.**

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**The Love Boat: Chapter 1: By Accident**

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Well, this was how it all started: with good intentions. And now he was on an ocean liner with sunny skies, gorgeous bikini-clad women, eat-all-you-can buffets at every corner, and amusements to keep him occupied for the next two weeks of this tropical cruise.

Alec was sure he was in hell.

He was on a cruise ship filled with half-naked women. That by itself would have put him up in cloud nine…but then there was the little caveat represented by a narrow platinum band wrapped around his left ring finger.

He was married.

Alec groaned out loud. He was married to one of the most beautiful—if not THE most beautiful—woman on the damned ship, and he wasn't getting any of the perks.

He still remembered the ceremony, performed right on the docks, in one of the pretty little garden settings. It had taken weeks to prepare, but he had said the requisite vows, and so had she. They had exchanged simple platinum bands, and shared a chaste peck of a kiss.

A chaste peck wasn't exactly what Alec had had in mind, but he wasn't sure if Max would slap him in front of their witnesses if he tried any more than that.

It would totally have blown their cover.

He glanced down at his wife, who was wearing an expression that could only be described as thunderous, and he sighed heavily. "Max, this is our honeymoon, can you at least pretend to be having fun?"

Her eyes snapped up towards his. "And by having fun, you mean plaster a fake smile on my face, gush all over you, and melt into a gooey puddle everytime you look at me?" she asked with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

Alec smirked, "Well, now that you've mentioned all that gushing and melting, I have a couple more suggestions," he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her. "Like, how about all the hugs and kisses I'm supposed to be getting? Not to mention a certain activity that puts the honey in honeymoon?"

"In your dreams, Pretty Boy,"

"Call me, Hubby," he chuckled. "Sounds so much more…husbandly. Describes me to a T."

"Oh, please," she sighed. "You'd be the last person I'd call husband-material."

"Hey, you married me," he pointed out with mock offense.

"By accident," she reminded him with a disdainful smirk. "Trust me, I wouldn't have married you otherwise even if you were the last man on this planet."

He chuckled, enjoying their little banter. He honestly never took offense with Max's barbed tongue. It was just the way she was, and truth be told, he wouldn't have her any other way.

Not that he _had _her.

But it was fun otherwise. He could still remember the funny little conversation she had shared with Logan over the phone considering their marital status.

"…_so, all I have to do is produce your fake marriage certificate and you're on your way," explained Logan in his officious Eyes Only voice. "After all, it's not like Alec's really your husband."_

_A small look of panic had crossed Max's face before she steeled herself. "Actually, he **is** my…husband," admitted Max weakly over the phone._

"_WHAT!" cried Logan, screaming into his receiver._

"_Yeah, remember that guy you hooked us up with? That plumber guy who's cousin was the Justice? You told us that he could perform a fake ceremony? Well turns out he was actually the Justice whose cousin is a plumber."_

"_Oh. My. God."_

_Max had tried to sound reassuring. "Well, at least we've got all the necessary documents…and it makes getting caught a hell of a lot less likely," she pointed out reasonably. Although Alec was sure Logan wasn't seeing reason at that moment._

"_But…but…you're **married**?"_

"_Yeah._ _Aren't you gonna congratulate us?" drawled Alec, as he took the receiver from Max. She was a little too upset to be dealing with Logan right now._

"_Alec, put Max back on the phone, we're not done with our conversation," ordered Logan, his voice ringing with irritation._

_Alec was also getting irritated. He knew that Max had led Logan to believe that he was already seeing Max in the first place, and Logan had given him his blessing to be with Max…so what was the problem? As far as he was concerned, all was right with the world. "Look, Logan, Max and I have been together a while now, why shouldn't we get married?"_

_He saw Max's jaw drop down in slack surprise. He almost laughed out loud, but kept his composure. It was almost as amusing as Logan's attempts at sputtering out a reply._

_Max snatched the phone out of his hands. "Logan?" she called into the receiver. "Look, just give us the intelligence for this mission so we can get it over with."_

_Alec couldn't hear anything on Logan's end for a while. Probably struck dumb. Finally, he heard him sigh, "Sure. It's what I do."_

He placed a hand on the small of Max's back, and carefully, almost subconsciously guided her through the small crowd. "Consider our marriage fate," he ventured. "If you didn't choose me, Manticore did at first, and now circumstances have."

Max tilted her head at him in that way she often did when she was resigned to her _fate_. "Don't remind me," she sighed heavily as they walked in to the main lobby of the liner to register. "Could my life suck any worse?" she muttered under her breath.

Alec heard her of course, "Be careful what you wish for, Maxie," he drawled, and threw an arm around her shoulders. She started to pull away, but he held her fast against his side. "Uh-uh, honey, we're a happy couple on our honeymoon," he reminded her.

He could almost hear her gritting her teeth, before reluctantly wrapping her arm around his waist.

Alec stifled the small sense of rightness that welled up in him at the way she fit against him. They walked in perfect synchronization, without the awkwardness some couples have when locked fully against each other's side. Nope, this felt completely natural to him.

Except maybe for the long-suffering sigh that came out of Max.

"Max, if you keep acting like that, I swear I'm gonna embarrass you."

She looked up at him skeptically. "Like this could get any _more_ embarrassing?"

He grinned cheekily at her, though just a _tiny bit_ hurt by her remark, and squeezed her harder against his side. "Trust me, sweetheart, I know how to make things worse. I'd take you around this ship yell, 'Check out my _HOT_ wife. I'm King of the World!' at the top of my lungs."

"You _wouldn't._"

He threw her a look that said that he _would._

"I guess I shouldn't be too surprised."

"So, smile." he ordered.

"I am!" she snapped.

He threw her an amused look. "Maxie, sweetie, that _smile_ could turn men into stone. Even Medusa looked better."

She pinched his waist where her hand was resting just above his belt, and he flinched away from her. "Ow!" he cried in surprised pain. That drew a genuine smile from her. "Hey, that's the spirit!"

She smiled even wider. "Maybe I should keep hurting you. It's 'bout the only thing that's worth smiling about from this whole fiasco."

Alec sighed mockingly. "Max, Max, Max," he sighed. "Don't you know that you already hurt me in a place where the sun don't shine?"

"Oh, that's sick, Alec!" she cried, pushing away from him. But he could see the small glint of amusement in her eyes.

"I was talking about my heart. What were _you_ thinking about?" he leered at her.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, a particular cage-fighting incident…" she trailed off with a smirk.

He wore a pained expression on his face. "Just thinking about it, hurts like hell. That was a low blow."

"Well, you wouldn't throw the fight for a good cause," she replied testily.

"I was up five hundred grand!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "Who throws that kind of money away for a _good_ cause?"

She opened her mouth, but no reply came out. Instead she glared at him and clamped her mouth shut.

Alec couldn't help but smirk at her. "That's right. Nobody." Then he tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. "Well, maybe your boyfriend would. From what I heard, he gave up his entire fortune for a good cause." He snorted in disdain and smirked down at her.

She had a troubled frown on her face. "He's not my boyfriend," she muttered, purposely not addressing the issue of Logan throwing away his entire fortune on some vague principle. "Besides, I'm married now."

"Noooo? Really?" he drawled mockingly. "To whom?"

"Oh, shuttup!" she fumed.

"Admit it, Max," he drawled with an arrogant grin. "Being married to the handsomest, sexiest, most charming, most intelligent, and most unprincipled guy in the world isn't so bad."

She growled a little in frustration and wrinkled her nose. "No, it's not bad at all, Alec. It's a freaking disaster!"

He smiled adoringly down at her, blinking his eyes and milking them for all their sincerity. He watched as a gurgle of laughter escaped from her lips and she swatted him playfully on the shoulder. His heart lightened at that and he winked at her.

They were now closing in on the reception desk, and Alec immediately reached over and took Max's hand in his. Their fingers intertwined automatically, their palms pressing intimately against each other. Surprisingly, Max's hand was relaxed in his, yet holding on firmly.

They reached the desk and he smiled brilliantly at the very well-endowed receptionist. She was sitting down, and looking over the receptionist desk meant that he was looking down at her.

It was only a _coincidence_ that his eyes happened to graze the top of the very low-cut neckline of her shirt.

Barely a fraction of a second had passed while his gaze rested on the receptionist's assets, before he felt a heavy hand slap him upside the head. "Eyes front, soldier," seethed Max. "You're married!"

His eyes did snap up front, not from the order, but from sheer surprise at her unexpectedly vehement reaction. He quickly glanced down at Max and gave her a knowing grin.

She was _jealous_.

And she wasn't playing a part, either. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her lips were clamped down so tight they were a thin white line, and he caught the murderous look she tossed at the receptionist.

Looking to reassure her, he immediately pulled Max against him. He rested her in front of him, his arms wrapping comfortably around her waist as if he had done this millions of times before instead of the first time. He nuzzled her cheek lightly. He told himself it was for the act, but he knew it was because she smelled so damned good.

She tensed briefly, probably shocked that he was being overtly affectionate. But he noticed the smirk she threw at the receptionist. Then she relaxed in the cradle of his arms, and leaned back against his chest as if she'd done this millions of times before, too. She also tilted her head slightly so that he had better access for nuzzling. Alec swallowed back his surprise, and just resettled her comfortably in his arms, happy to continue being affectionate.

Who was he to complain? Like he'd said before, he was married to the most beautiful girl on the damned cruise ship. And she smelled good, was soft to the touch, and most of all, letting him touch her.

He was in for an ass-kicking later, he was sure. For now, he would just enjoy himself.

The receptionist glanced briefly at Alec, a flirtatious smile on her face. But her eyes drifted down to Max, and the smile immediately lost its flirtatious edge. Instead it took on a professional glaze, her face settling into a practiced mask of greeting.

"Welcome to the Love Boat: The perfect Cruise for your Honeymoon!"


	2. Chapter 2: Tradition and All

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel doesn't belong to me, but rather to the great Cameron. All hail the Cameron.**

**A/N: I've decided to switch POV's between Max and Alec for this story. Obviously this one is in Max's, just as the last one was from Alec's. Thanks for reading! And I'd love a review…hint, hint…LOL!**

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**CHAPTER 2: Tradition and All**

Max rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, wondering how things had gotten so twisted. She couldn't believe she was married. She'd never thought she was the marrying type in the first place. Come to think of it, life on the run didn't give a girl much time to think about commitment and stability—especially the M-word.

But now she was married. To Alec. Of all people.

It was sad, really. She'd somehow always equated marriage with the idea of commitment and stability. Neither of which Alec really represented. Commitment was probably just a ten-letter word in the dictionary to Alec. He had never shown any inclination to stop his tom-cattin' ways. He was a male who had never had to really work hard to get any female companionship. Hell, all he had to do was look in the general direction of a girl and that girl melted into a puddle of 'yeses'.

Not that it worked on _her._ Max frowned because she was sure she'd never melted at any looks Alec had given her. Nope. It helped that every time he looked at her he was wearing that smart-ass smirk, frowning, or staring up at her in indignation after she beat his ass down.

He'd never directed any of those slow-sensual smiles her way. And his eyes didn't twinkle at her, or get all hot and steamy for that matter.

Not that she ever wanted to see _that_.

And it wasn't like she said "yes" to him often. In fact, it was so rare that whenever she did say 'yes', it usually made him speechless with shock. Of course, she would conveniently forget that she had said "_Yes_, I do," to loving, cherishing and (dammnit) _obeying_ Alec for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death did them part.

Max groaned inwardly at the last part. It was such an ominous little phrase, "till death do us part." Mostly because it was very likely that it would, given that they were transgenics and were often had a higher propensity for near-death experiences.

Maybe the words should be changed to, "till divorce do us part," or "till annulment do us part." It just seemed to make more sense that way.

In any case, that "death do us part" line reminded Max that Alec also wasn't any candidate for stability either. He was always in one scrape or another, getting his ass (and other parts of his body) shot in an almost monthly basis. What kind of stability was living on the edge like he had the tendency to do?

If she had wanted to be married, it'd be to…a boring, old, unexciting, mind-numbing, overly-principled, straitlaced, polite, staid man…like Logan. Max bit her lip at the depressing scene her thoughts had painted.

She threw a cautious glance at Alec who walked beside her, his large hand on the small of her bare back, as if that were exactly where his hand belonged. She could feel the warmth of it heating up her skin. She cursed the fact that she was wearing a white linen top that ended at her midriff, exposing herself to his touch. It made her melt inside. She paused briefly at the thought, her heart racing in panic. _No melting of any kind, Max! _she berated herself. _Melting—bad._ _Be cold. Be very, very cold. Be so cold that even hell would freeze over. Remember, melting over Alec, bad. _

Yeah, but his hand was still warm on her back, and his scent was tangy and masculine as the light breeze coming from the ocean blew over him. She groaned. The fates really were conspiring against her.

She just wanted her life to be uncomplicated. Simple. Rational.

But with Alec, nothing was ever uncomplicated. Nothing was ever simple. And nothing was ever rational.

Like the tiny little voice inside of her saying that she really didn't mind being married to him. He was one of the handsomest—if not THE handsomest—guy on this cruise. It didn't hurt that she would have him on her arm everywhere they went.

If only he would stop yapping so much.

"You're awful quiet," he mused out loud, slipping his hand from the small of her back to just at the curve of her waist so he could pull her aside and let someone else pass the in the narrow aisles. "I'm almost scared."

"Shuttup!" she replied automatically. She was busy trying not to melt as his fingers, spread over the sensitive skin of her stomach, while his thumb rested lightly on her back, rubbing back and forth comfortably. "And get your hands off of me!"

"I only have one hand on you," he joked, not letting go. Instead, he tightened his grip, and hauled her completely against his side. They were fitted together like two puzzle pieces.

Max was jolted to awareness at how strong and firm, long and lean the lines of his body were. Despite his playfulness and charm, there was nothing really soft about Alec. A part of her always knew that, and was always wary of that.

"You're still mad," he stated matter-of-factly, moving his arm from her waist to drape casually over her bare shoulders. Did she mention that her top was also off-the-shoulder?

"What do I have to be mad about?" she seethed. "Except maybe being married to you."

"Aw, c'mon, Maxie. Admit it, you were jealous," he pointed out, grinning widely from ear-to-ear.

"I was _not!_" she retorted hotly. "I was playing a part!"

She saw Alec smile skeptically and shrug. "Whatever you say. Besides, it's not technically a part. You _are_ my wife."

"Will you stop _saying_ that?!" she hissed, but felt a slight warmth start to tinge her cheeks. Playing the role—or in this particular instance, the reality—of Alec's wife was surprisingly easy. It wasn't a role she had to slip into.

Nope. All he really ever had to do was put his arm around her, and she was all gooey. She would admit that she went all _gooey_, but NOT _melty_. Not that he was ever likely to know his effect on her. It'd only inflate his already ginormous ego to even greater proportions.

"I only speak the truth," he quipped and she rolled her eyes, as they continued to walk around the decks, orienting themselves to the layout of the ship. "Besides, half the people on this ship are on their honeymoon, Max."

"So?"

"We'd look inconspicuous if we didn't act all cuddly." He wiggled his brows at her.

She grimaced at him. "We could be part of the half that ­_isn't _on a honeymoon," she pointed out reasonably.

He had his arm around her shoulders, his hand hanging comfortably just over her collarbone, when that hand came up to pinch her right cheek suddenly. "Maxie, stop being so cheeky," he admonished playfully. "The beauty of us…is that we are on our honeymoon."

_And well, that was the scariest part_, she thought as she slapped his hand away from her cheek. Because she really had no excuses not to make good on the "honey" in honeymoon. And Alec was one foine honey.

But before she could retort, Alec squeezed her shoulders tightly, and nodded his head in the direction of the outdoor café on the top deck. "There they are," he murmured quietly.

Max's eyes briefly touched on the stately man and woman drinking a morning cup of coffee and eating their croissants and quiche Lorraines. "Mr. and Mrs. Schulze-Cleven," acknowledged Max.

According to Eyes Only intelligence, Mr. Wulfgang Schulze-Cleven and Mrs. Claudia Schmidt-Schulze-Cleven, were the supposed masterminds behind the Mail-Order Bride and Groom scams. They found rich, unsuspecting men and women who were lonely and looking for love in all the wrong places. They offered their catalog of fine specimen of man- and womanhood, and before they could even say bada-bing-bada-boom, the unsuspecting rich victims were married. Without prenups.

And unfortunately, as part of the wedding package offered, they go on the Love Boat—also owned by the Schulze-Clevens—wherein they proceed to wine, dine, and have a real honeymoon for two to four weeks. Then the unsuspecting rich victims become dead unsuspecting rich victims.

Leaving the new bride or groom filthy rich.

But all of that money actually just fall conveniently into the grasping hands of the Schulze-Clevens, to continue to fund the "Float the Love Boat Operation" as Alec liked to call it.

Their job was to insinuate themselves into the couple's inner circle and gather evidence. Part one of the mission had been easily enough accomplished. They had found out where the Schulze-Clevens married the unsuspecting rich victims. They had posed as elopers, and had begged the Schulze-Clevens to stand as witnesses at their impromptu wedding—which had actually taken _weeks_ to plan.

Hey, even if she'd never thought about weddings before, didn't mean that she didn't want to have the prettiest wedding gown around. But what had really surprised her, was Alec and his little streak of tradition.

"_Hey, Maxie," he yelled, bounding happily after her on the way home from Jam Pony. He caught up to her and threw an arm around her shoulders casually. _

_She turned and eyed him warily. Logan wasn't around, so he didn't have to pretend to be the sweet boyfriend. She shrugged his arm off, and he let it fall. Then, he shoved a ring box into her hand so quickly, that without her enhanced reflexes, the box would have fallen onto the wet pavement._

"_What's this?"_

"_Your ring," he muttered, looking slightly uneasy._

_Max frowned, still holding the black velvet box. "My ring?"_

"_Engagement ring."_

_She rolled her eyes at him, but her heart was beating like a million drums in her ears. "It's only for an EO thing, Alec," she said testily, still unable to make herself look at the ring inside the box. It just seemed **too** real if she did. "It's no big deal."_

_He shrugged and ran a hand through his already-tousled blond-brown hair. "I know, but I thought I'd do right by you and give you a ring, anyway. Isn't that how it's supposed to go? I wanna at least get this right. Tradition and all."_

"_Oh." She wouldn't argue with that. Tradition and all. _

"_Open it," he urged eagerly._

_She cracked the lid open and peeked into the box. Her mouth went dry at the ring she saw inside. She opened the lid all the way, and felt her jaw drop in even more awe. "It's beautiful," she said, a little bit more breathless than she actually wanted to be._

_But the damned ring was gorgeous. "This must be…two-point-five carats?" she whispered. _

"_Three," he said proudly._

_It was a beautiful solitaire, cut so precisely and finely that light fractured into thousands of fragments and turned it into icy fire. It was set on a simple platinum band. Max tentatively took the ring out of the setting and held it between thumb and forefinger. "This must've cost a fortune," she commented. "Who'd you steal it from?"_

_Alec smirked. "Believe it or not, I didn't."_

_She frowned at him, wondering briefly why he would go to the trouble to buy a ten-thousand-plus dollar ring for nothing. "That was stupid. But I guess you could always return it."_

_He shrugged, and took the ring from her. He looked side-to-side, and hiked up a pant leg. Max's eyes went wide as she realized that he was about to kneel in front of her. She grabbed his sleeve and shook her head briskly, "Uh-uh, don't."_

"_What happened to 'tradition and all'?" he smirked._

_She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not **that** traditional," she grinned. _

_He tilted his head sideways and looked heavenward, as if thinking about it. Then he shrugged, "Okay," Then simply held out the ring to her and wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "So, what do you say, Maxie? Care to make an honest man out of me?"_

_Tears sprung suddenly into Max's eyes. She had never imagined this moment for anything. And to think that she was sharing this with Alec. Of all people. _

_She shook her head at him, but stuck her hand out anyway. "If this weren't so wrong, I might've been the happiest woman alive," she muttered._

_He looked at her strangely, an indecipherable gleam in his eyes, his smile soft, and just slightly crooked. "Who says I can't make you the happiest woman alive, hmm?"_

_She opened her mouth for a sarcastic remark, but he slid the beautiful ring onto her finger, and all thoughts left her except the absolute perfection of the fit. "How'd you know?" she asked incredulously. She had thought she would need to get it resized, or put tape around it._

_He had smirked at her. "I'm a world-class assassin-spy, Maxie, how do you think?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't ruin the moment," she retorted. But she glanced admiringly at her hand, at the ring that gleamed on her finger like it belonged there. Too bad she would have to return it. She sighed heavily and offered him a small crooked smile. "It's beautiful, Alec," she said simply. "Thanks."_

_And he smiled. And she had felt herself go all gooey inside. So she smacked him before riding away on her bike, leaving him in her dust._

Max glanced down at the two rings on her finger now. They were both beautiful: simple and classic, but no doubt elegant and expensive. Who knew Alec had such good taste? She hadn't even been bothered with the details such as getting the rings. All she had cared about was her dress. It wasn't very likely that she would ever get another chance to wear one again.

"Shall we complete the second phase of our mission, Mrs. McDowell?" Alec murmured against her ear, in what might have been mistaken as a man nuzzling his wife lovingly.

Max slipped into her role—or whatever—and leaned into Alec, letting his lips touch her ear lightly. "Mmm, yes, Mr. McDowell, let's."

With that, they sauntered casually towards the Schulze-Clevens, arms around each other. A look of pleasant surprise was plastered on Alec's face as he steered Max towards their targets. "Wulf!" he cried exuberantly, waving at the older man.

Wulfgang and Claudia looked up, and smiled in delight. They had been two very easy targets for Alec's charm, and Max's seeming sweet shyness.

"Alec…Maxine," smiled Claudia, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of welcome. "Sit with us."

Max gritted her teeth at being called "Maxine". She hated that name. She couldn't remember when she had _ever_ been Maxine. Oh, wait…that one time, when Logan had tried so very hard to make her fit into his world. "Max" just wasn't an acceptable enough name for a girl, apparently.

"Actually, her name is Max," said Alec, with a cheeky grin on his face as they each took a seat. "It was one of the reasons that we even started talking. I tried calling her something else, but she kept on insisting her name was Max. Just Max."

She smiled at Alec in the expected way a wife smiled adoringly at her gorgeous husband. But inside, she couldn't help but feel gratified that he had made the move to correct the Schulze-Clevens. She would never have done it, and she would have hated every moment she was referred to as Maxine. "Oh, don't be silly, Alec. It wasn't the issue of my name that sealed the deal for us, it was yours," she teased back.

"Really?" asked Wulfgang, leaning in interestedly. It was no secret that he liked to listen to "how-we-met-and-fell-in-love" stories to use for his schemes and scams.

Max smiled at Wulf and leaned in towards him, too, as if telling a secret. "See, I had to…_guess_…his name. My first choice was Dick. I thought it fit him to a T."

"But of course, she's come to love 'Alec'," he smiled widely at her, covering her smaller hand with his and squeezing it gently in a gesture of affection.

Max felt the little squeeze straight to her heart. Her smile quavered a bit, but she kept on with their charade. "Oh, but I still feel the urge to call him Dick. A lot."

Wulf and Claudia chuckled appropriately, and shared a meaningful glance at each other. Perhaps to most people, the Schulze-Clevens were looking lovingly into one another's eyes, but she could practically see the wheels turning in their heads, calculating and committing the banter to memory for future use.

Max had to control the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she allowed herself to look around the ship in keen interest. "Your ship is lovely! I'm so glad you suggested this cruise for our honeymoon," she gushed.

"Oh! Yes, yes," said Wulfgang, as if just remembering something. "Claudia and I were just talking about the both of you, and we feel that the two tiny cabins you have were simply unacceptable for a couple on their honeymoon—even if they do have adjoining doors."

"So, we discussed it, and since we were really touched by your story of how you had to elope instead of having a grand wedding, to get away from her obsessive, controlling ex-boyfriend who was set on ruining everything for you, we've decided to offer both of you one of our lovely honeymoon suites!" exclaimed Claudia, clasping her hands in front of her in excitement.

The look of surprise on Max's face was genuine. She wasn't sure if she wore a shocked-surprise, horrified-surprise, or pleasantly-surprised expression (maybe all three), but she was surprised.

"That's very generous of you," said Alec, his voice warm, but regretful. "But we really just can't pay for the honeymoon suite right this moment. We hadn't _planned_ for any of this to happen, remember?"

Max nodded mutely in agreement.

"Oh, we insist!" said Claudia, reaching over and placing her beautifully manicured hand over Max and Alec's. "Everything is on us!"

Max turned to look at Alec. His expression, underneath the smile, was unreadable. His eyes were oddly bright, burning slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt like she was having a heart attack. There was a reason they had pretended to be a young couple just starting out in life. There was a reason why they had pretended they couldn't afford anything but the cabins in the lowest deck. There was a reason why they had two cheap, _separate_ rooms in the lowest deck.

But not anymore. She was going to have to _share_ a honeymoon suite with Alec. For two weeks.

Damn.

Things really could get worse.

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	3. Chapter 3: Between Hate and Like

**DISCLAIMER: Good ol' Cameron wouldn't give me Dark Angel. Not even for Christmas. Bah, humbug! Therefore, it's still not mine.**

**A/N: So, we're back to Alec's POV. Sorry, but a little bit of angst crept in. I think it's a sign I'm ready to re-tackle the more angsty pieces that I have lying around. Fluff is fun and all, but I think angst is where my heart is. Sheesh. **

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**CHAPTER 3: Between Hate and Like**

Max was tense.

Alec couldn't help but notice how stiffly she walked beside him, with her back ramrod straight, and her arms crossed in front of her as they walked towards their new suite. Correction, their new _honeymoon_ suite.

Honestly, he didn't see what the big deal was. He totally didn't mind the upgrade in the accommodations. But then again, that was him…and this was Max. She liked things complicated and difficult.

He wondered if he really should have said something—been more adamant—about accepting the suite. But he figured that he had done the right thing for the mission.

_Yeah, the mission_, he smirked to himself. _Of course_ he had been thinking about the mission. The whole getting-to-know-you dealio with the Schulze-Clevens would be so much easier if they could travel in the same circles and keep the same company while on the ship.

His easy acceptance of their hospitality had absolutely nothing to do with the idea of being able to say good night to Max, or see her first thing every morning. Absolutely nothing.

Besides, he knew it was more likely he'd get a head slap at night, and a pillow whacked in his face to wake him up every morning. But to be quite frank, he didn't care. So long as it was Max doing the slapping and the whacking. He could deal.

"You okay?" he asked tentatively. She kinda looked like she was gonna be sick. He hoped it wasn't because of the thought of sharing a room with him. Maybe she just had motion sickness.

"Huh?" she blinked slowly, as if coming out of a daze, the tightness of her expression cleared for a moment. "What was that?" She turned to look at him.

But he might as well not have been there. Her gaze was so far away, she might've been looking at something completely through him.

He grimaced and purposely waved a hand in front of her face, "Hey, Maxiiiieeee…."

She slapped his hand away and glared at him, her eyes finally focusing. "Will you stop that?" she growled. "It's so juvenile, Alec."

He shrugged, "Yeah, well I asked you a question, and I expected an answer. I mean you're walking like you have a stick up your ass."

She threw him a frowning sidelong glance. "What'd you say?" she asked absentmindedly. He couldn't believe it. Even the stick up her ass comment hadn't done the trick. She had tuned him out. Again.

He threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "Nothing, nothing. Forget it, okay?" Alec huffed out loud. It was like he no longer existed, and well, far be it for him to explain why, but he couldn't stand it when Max ignored him. So, he did what he usually did best: he annoyed her.

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. He marveled at how soft her skin was, that little tiny piece of skin that peeked from her white linen shirt. Max was toned, but stretched over her taut muscles was skin like the smoothest, softest silk. He let his fingers gently caress that sliver of skin, enjoying the softness and warmth.

He heard Max's breath hitch slightly at the contact. Alec grinned to himself, suddenly feeling much better. He decided that the long, boring drive from Seattle to San Diego to get married and catch a ride on The Love Boat had been well worth it.

Because the warmer the weather got, the less clothes Max wore.

And to think that they were going to be in the Caribbean soon. His grin widened.

"What the hell are you thinking about?" she snapped at him, no doubt having seen his devious smile. He glanced down at her innocently, letting his thumb caress the skin on her back just under the hem of her shirt purposely to unnerve her. "Nothing," he replied easily.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "I don't believe you," she stated bluntly. "Whatever it is that you're thinking, it's not happening."

"What do _you_ think I was thinking, Max?"

"Nothing good, I'm sure," she said flippantly.

"Oh, but I am good," he replied suggestively, lowering his voice. He leaned closer to her, and pulled her even more against his body. She stiffened slightly, but to his surprise she didn't pull away. "I'm very, _very_ good."

Her breath did that funny little break again.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," she whispered weakly. But he noticed a slight blush coloring her cheek. Oh, she _knew_. He smirked slightly and wondered how far he could push her before she threw him overboard.

"You know, I can show you just how good I can be," he murmured against her hair. What kind of shampoo did she use that she smelled so good?

"Aw shucks, I'm just not up for that," she said sarcastically, and this time, she did push away from him with a hot glare. He let go of her because he didn't doubt for a second that she would throw him over the side of the ship if he didn't release her. He didn't think she would yell 'Man overboard' either until the ship was at least a mile away.

He sighed and ran a hand through his wind-ruffled hair. He watched her walk three strides ahead of him, her long, dark hair whipping behind her. He smiled slightly, because she walked with so little self-consciousness. She barged ahead, her shoulders straight, hips swaying only slightly, and arms swinging with purpose. She didn't seem to notice all the male heads that swung around for a second and third glance.

Because dammnit, she was hot.

And she was _his wife_.

And he damned well noticed all the other guys looking at her. He glared at every single guy who had turned to look at Max as he passed by them a few seconds after her. Okay, so maybe _he_ was a little jealous, too. He gritted his teeth slightly at his own admission. This seriously sucked.

He sighed again. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of that lately. He hoped it wasn't some kind of chronic disease caused by being married. He would sigh himself to death at this rate.

There was no doubt that theirs was the worst honeymoon in all of history. He scratched his head knowing that there was nothing he could really do to make things better. She didn't want to be married to him. It was clear from the way she was practically leaving him in the dust right now.

"Hey, Max, wait up," he called out.

"You're too slow," she replied over her shoulder, her lips set into a thin line.

He caught up to her, but a smug grin had already formed its way onto his lips. "Hey, sometimes slow can be good."

She snorted in that unladylike way she always did that really only Max could pull off and still look hot. "Not in this case, it ain't," she retorted back, still not really looking at him.

"I know you can't wait to get me all to yourself, but all in good time, sweetie."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, Alec," she sighed, "There's nothing about you that I would want to get all to myself."

"Oh, stop lying, Max," he grinned, knowing he was just setting himself up for another set of verbal abuse. He was a masochist when it came to this girl, that was for sure. "You know you just live for those days when I get shot and have to take my shirt off."

She was quiet. Didn't even rise to the bait. So he continued yapping along, knowing that eventually something he said would rile her up. Lord knew how much he loved seeing her riled up. All that passion and heat and energy just came bursting out of her. He wished he could put all that to better use.

He knew _at least_ one thousand and one better ways to put all that passion and heat and energy into better use. He gulped slightly, as his thoughts ran a little bit wilder than he usually allowed it to.

He shook his head slightly, and resumed his chat. "You know, you're in for a treat," he quipped. "Since we're on our way to the sunny Caribbean, you'll get to see me without my shirt on often enough. Maybe even without my pants on. How 'bout that?" He flashed her an open-mouthed smile and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her.

But she stopped walking so suddenly that he ran smack into her with a small 'oomph!'

"Let's get this straight, Alec," she hissed. "I am _not_ your wife by consent. I do _not_ want to see you without your shirt, and I _especially _do not want to see you without your pants on. Got that?"

His heart almost stopped at the vehemence in her voice. He knew she didn't like him all that much—but this, well this just _hurt._ He couldn't quite hide the shock and slight flinch on his face at her words.

He saw a flash of regret in her eyes, but she didn't back down.

He shrugged, "Lighten up, Max. I was just kidding, okay? I know you don't like me. I know I'm the last person on the planet you want to be married to. I know that you don't think of me like _that_," he said, his voice low and flat. His eyes stared straight into hers, not bothering to mask the hurt. "_I know._" He enunciated the last two words clearly.

He watched as her eyes grew duller at every statement he said. And he wondered why it would even bother her. He was no more than toe scum in her eyes. He scratched his lasered-off barcode, and massaged the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly filled him. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe because his heart wasn't working properly. It was all tight and constricted.

Max looked away towards the ocean. Then down at her feet. Somehow, they had moved off to the side and were now standing by the railing, facing each other. She turned her profile to him, and placed both her hands on the white rail, and leaned onto it. She looked so sad, so lost in her own thoughts, that Alec wondered maybe he should leave her by herself.

He cleared his throat uneasily as the silence stretched past two minutes. "Look, I guess, I'll go ahead," he mumbled, and made a move to walk past her.

But she grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly gentle grip. If he had really wanted to, he could have pulled his arm away from hers. But he didn't. Max never voluntarily touched him unless it was to hit him, so this was a nice surprise.

Although he wasn't about to kid himself, considering she had just told him she hated the fact that she was married to him.

Ouch.

"Alec," she whispered. There was a strange quiver in her voice, and the equally strange uneven rhythm of her breathing. "It's not…"

He chuckled uneasily. "Uh-uh, Maxie," he stopped her. "You're not gonna give me the 'it's not you, it's me' speech are you? It's so cliché. C'mon, you don't have to explain anything to me. We have a history that doesn't just erase itself. I get it."

She tilted her head slightly at him. "No explanations needed, huh?" she asked skeptically.

"You hate me, I don't hate you. We're married, but it's just a cover. We've got a job to do, but we're still on a tropical cruise ship. We've got two weeks of sunshine stretched out ahead of us…let's just make the most of the facts, okay?"

She looked at him strangely, and he felt like he had grown a third ear or something. "What?" he finally sighed when she still didn't say anything.

"I don't hate you," she sighed heavily. "I mean, I did. But not anymore. Not for a long time."

He cocked a brow, as his heart started working again. His grin came much easier as the tension between them dissipated. "So, if you don't hate me…you must _like_ me?" he suggested.

She rolled her eyes, and shoved him on the chest playfully. "Don't push your luck, Pretty Boy. There's a vast ocean between hate and like."

He scoffed. "Yeah, right. C'mon, if you don't hate something, you like it. Simple as that. You don't hate me, you like me." He was grinning at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Puh-lease. That could work both ways. If you don't hate me, you must like me, too," she said, but the shake of her head told him that she wasn't taking that theory too seriously.

"Hey, who says I don't?"

There was a heartbeat's silence between them, and Alec wondered maybe he had overstepped the imaginary boundaries again. Dammnit, he didn't even know where they were.

"How can you like me?" she asked, and there was genuine curiosity in her tone. "Even I know how mean I am to you."

He had two options: one, admit to her that he liked her—more than liked her, in fact—or two, take the easy, less-painful way out, and just tease her. "So you admit that you're mean to me," he teased. He wasn't that much of a glutton for punishment.

"But you still like me anyway…" she retorted.

Dammnit. They were back to square one. He opened his mouth to say something, but was relieved when she cut him off, apparently not finished with her train of thought.

"…on the other hand, you like anchovies…and they're disgusting," she mused.

He laughed out loud instead. "You just called yourself disgusting."

"I did not." She denied hotly.

"You equated yourself to anchovies, then." He conceded.

She pushed him on the shoulder playfully. "I am _not_ anchovies!" she cried, but laughter danced in her eyes. "I was merely stating that as an example of how unreliable your sense of _like_ is. You have bad taste in like. In fact I would like it very much if you didn't like me at all." She stated firmly and insistently.

"Oo-kay," he shrugged and acquiesced easily, only because he didn't _just _like her. "…but only because you're mean."

"Exactly." Then, she threw a frustrated glance heavenward before punching him on the arm when she realized what she had just admitted with full conviction.

He laughed out loud. "I'm so glad we're clear on that one."

"Yeah, that you don't like me," she insisted. "_And_ I don't like you, either. Especially when you're talking about not having a shirt or pants on."

"Hey, we never agreed on that," he protested. He wondered why she was insisting so much on declaring how much they didn't hate, but _still_ didn't like each other.

She placed both hands on her hips and glared at him.

He raised his hands up in mock surrender and grinned cheekily at her. "Okay, truce," he said. "I promise not to mention anything more about being shirtless and pantless, but you don't get to be mean to me."

"Hey!" she protested with a smile. "That's not fair."

"How is that not fair? I think it's fair enough. How hard do you think it's gonna be for me to keep my mouth shut about how hot I am?"

"_Pfft_. You're ego needs a reality check anyway. Besides, where's the fun in not being mean to you?" she grumbled, but her eyes were twinkling again. "I thought we'd established that I get to be mean to you so I can smile."

"Well, you better find something else to smile about, because you can't be mean anymore," he smirked.

"Fine." Then she hit him upside the head, and grinned.

"Hey!" he whined. "We just _agreed_!"

"I wasn't being mean," she replied innocently. "I was being _playful_. That's something to smile about." Then she flashed him a fifty megawatt smile before she spun around and started walking again in the direction of their new suite. He groaned, but couldn't quite hide his own amused smile.

A few minutes of bickering and bantering finally found them in front of Suite 408. Alec pulled out the keys that Wulfgang had handed to him earlier and opened the door with a flourish. "Welcome to your Honeymoon Suite, Mrs. McDowell," he said with flair, his eyes on her.

But Max just stood there, her mouth parting in slight awe.

She looked so adorable, that Alec could have just stood there and watched her be awestruck. When she still didn't move after a few seconds, he turned to look at the room, too, and couldn't help but gape just like Max did.

The place was gorgeous.

Everything was white, and gold and champagne-colored. The bed was enormous—easily bigger than a king-size—and covered in champagne silk that glimmered in the soft lights of the suite. There were large crystal vases of fresh-cut flowers, a bowl of red strawberries, a bottle of champagne chilling beside it, and hundreds and thousands of candles and soft rose petals strewn all over the place.

Alec had never wished so hard that Max was _really_ his wife.

The kind that would have allowed him to kiss her, and hold her, and well…make use of the romance of the place.

All of a sudden, he felt like an imposter.

Max should be here with Logan. She would have loved this with him. Even if they couldn't touch, they might have sat around the electric fireplace and shared some of that champagne and strawberries.

She should have all this with the one she really loved.

He bit his lip, and chewed on the insides of his cheek anxiously. She still hadn't moved, and he wondered whether he should go in first. Seemed kinda wrong now.

He looked down at her, and realized that her expression had softened, "It's…nice," she said softly, a wry smile on her face. He could only nod in response and wave his hand to let her into the room first. "After you," he murmured, feeling like a frog or something was in his throat.

She licked her lips and tentatively walked into the room. He followed her and glanced around. Their bags had already been brought up from their old cabins, and were laid against the door that led to a large closet. He continued his perusal of the place, and whistled out loud at the gigantic jet-powered bathtub in the bathroom. "Whew, Maxie, check out this baby," he called out. "You know, I'm kinda glad that we're on this mi—"

He never finished his statement, because Max was suddenly in his arms, pressing her lips against his.

It only took a moment of surprise, a moment of hesitation, before he crushed her against him, and returned the kiss. He wasn't going to think about this. He wasn't going to question it.

Her lips had been puckered and hard, but he slanted his mouth over hers, and soon she was soft and pliant. Her arms were around his neck, her toes barely touching the floor, her body against his.

He angled his head to taste her more, and coaxed her lips apart. She moaned, and opened willingly. Tentatively, he ran his tongue over the insides of her lips, and she gasped. Then she pulled his head towards hers, and sucked on his tongue, all the while letting her small teeth run lightly over it. This time, it was his turn to gasp. He had to lean her against the wall. His knees were weak with wanting her. He had never been weak in the knees from just kissing anyone before.

But this wasn't just anyone. This was Max. His wife.

Her body was hot, as his fingers found the piece of skin around her midsection that had teased him all day. He splayed his hand against her lower back, under her shirt, and pulled her against him. She gasped breathlessly against his mouth.

His heart was hammering in his chest, as he released her mouth and trailed kisses on her jaw. His other hand came up, and encircled her throat in a gesture of possession and dominance, wanting her to surrender to him. Yet the hold remained gentle—ready to surrender to her as well.

"Alec," she breathed, as his kisses fell to the side of her neck, and onto her shoulders. He silently thanked whoever had designed her off-the-shoulder shirt for giving him access to the delicious smoothness of her skin.

Her hands were in his hair, massaging and tugging at his scalp, sending tingles of pleasure through him. He nipped her collarbone, and he could literally feel her knees give out, as she leaned her weight against him.

"Alec," she murmured again, but this time more insistent.

His lips returned against her ear, alternately licking and breathing lightly into it. He felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand with desire, and it only fueled his more. "Hmm?"

"Cameras," she murmured, in a low tone. "There are cameras in the room."

He froze.

_Damn._ He really should have known. There was no way in this world Max would have just flung herself at him and kissed him without a damned good reason.

But what was worse, was that he had made a total idiot of himself kissing her the way he had, all the while she had just been using it as an excuse to keep their cover.

He pulled away from her and looked into her flushed face. Her eyes were closed, and he was torn between being angry at her, and wanting to kiss her again. "Are you sure?" he murmured, his lips barely moving. His voice was so low only her enhanced hearing could have picked it up.

She didn't open her eyes, but she gave him a curt nod.

He groaned his frustration and banged his forehead on the wall next to hers. _Great._ _Just great_. He had been right all along. He was in hell on the worst, most complicated honeymoon ever.

And now there were cameras in their room.

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**A/N2: Yeah. I'm annoying like that. Because I think I'm gonna finish Legacy and Speed Dial first…before I write the next chapter of this. **


	4. Chapter 4: It's All Just Pretend

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

**A/N: I finished Legacy, but not Speed Dial. But my muse refused to write SD, ADA, WTS or any of my other fics until I got Max's voice out of my head for this story. So, here it is.**

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**CHAPTER 4: It's All Just Pretend**

Max felt trapped.

Her back was pushed against the wall while Alec pressed his weight down against her front. He was leaning on her, and she could feel the erratic thunder of his heart. No doubt, he could feel hers, pulsing just as wildly in her chest.

But that wasn't the reason why she felt trapped.

No. It was what was inside.

She was terrified. Of herself.

Of her own wildly passionate response to Alec's kiss. She had been lost in a tide of sheer pleasure and emotion. Of how _right_ it felt to kiss him, to hold him, and be held by him. Even now, with his long, lean body against her, one leg slipped intimately between both of hers supporting her weight, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other one braced against the wall on one side of her…she never wanted to leave.

He was muttering something, his head resting on the wall next to hers.

Finally coming out of the haze of passion and confusion that his kiss had brought, Max realized that he was whispering a litany of curses.

"_Fuck. Hell. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Hell. Shit. Damn."_ He muttered over and over under his breath.

Max's heart sank at the vehemence she heard in his murmured curses. She still had one arm flung around his neck, fingers curled at the soft hair that just barely touched his shirt collar. Her other hand was hovering lightly on his hip bone, one finger slipped under the hem of his shirt, another hooked on the waistband of his pants. She didn't dare move.

"Alec," she whispered softly. "I didn't mean to…" To what? Kiss him? _Enjoy _kissing him? Complicate their already complicated marital/non-marital status? Throw a wrench at their tentative 'I-don't-like-you' agreement?

Max took a deep breath to ease the pressure around the vicinity of her heart. She ached at having to apologize for kissing him. It would be a lie to say that she hadn't thought about it before. But she had caught sight of the blinking red dots, and he had been about to say 'mission'. She had done the only thing that she could think of to shut him up without looking inconspicuous.

He glanced down at her briefly, his hazel eyes clouded with a mix of emotions. "We're even then," he murmured huskily, his eyes darkening even more. "Because I don't mean this, either." Then he swooped down and captured her lips in his again.

His mouth was hard, punishing.

He ground her lips back against her teeth, until she gasped in pain. The moment, her mouth opened, he plundered. His tongue slipped in and raked over the roof of her mouth. The sensation was so erotic that Max sank even more against him.

He raised his knee up between her legs and pressed almost ruthlessly. She moaned heavily at the friction, her hands grabbing just as angrily at his soft hair. Her other fingers clawed up inside his shirt, finding the small line of hair that trailed up towards his belly button. She tugged at the small hairs, knowing that the slight sensation of pain would only turn him on further.

She knew that she should be mad—that she shouldn't let him drive her up against the wall like this. But all she could do was respond with her own angry passion—the kind that only Alec had ever aroused in her. She bit on his lip and enjoyed the groan he emitted. The desperate sound caused her to shiver and to give more of herself to him. Giving him pleasure was almost more important than her own. It was terrifying.

She not only needed him…she wanted to share every sensation with him. She had never ever lost control enough to be needy—not without heat. Not while she was fully conscious of what she was doing. Of exactly whose lips it was that seared hers. And she had never once wanted to give as much pleasure as she was getting.

To her, sex had always been an act of pleasure—for herself—of taking, of being the dominant. But with Alec, she didn't mind if he was the one who suddenly grabbed both of her legs from under her and pulled them to wrap around his waist, his obvious erection straining against both their clothes. She liked knowing that she had to cling to him, her arms suddenly coming to wrap under his arms and over his shoulders. She reveled in the fact that it was his fingers tangled in her hair, tugging until she had to arch her head back and let him devour her vulnerable neck.

She wanted him to…her mind couldn't come up with any coherent answers, just a swirl of emotions that amounted to one thing: She wanted him.

_All_ of him. Body, heart, mind, and soul. Just like he owned every inch of her just now. Every thought, every breath, every gasp, every beat of her heart belonged to him.

It hit her like a flash of lightning…she _loved_ him. And she wanted him to love her back.

Max felt tears form in her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from rolling down her cheeks, mingling into the taste of their hot kiss.

Suddenly, Alec yanked away from her, as if he had been burned.

Max almost cried out from the separation, but she clamped her lips shut. He was searching her face, his own blank and unreadable. Max tried to compose herself, to gather the last remaining strands of her control around herself—to hide all of the vulnerability of her recent, shattering, self-discovery.

"You're crying," he murmured, stating the obvious as if he wanted her to deny what was there in front of him.

"I didn't mean to," she retorted, yanking her gaze away from his accusing ones.

They were still intimately locked with each other: her against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist, one of his arms holding her locked against him while the other was somewhere tangled in her long hair.

In one swift movement, he carried her into the large, stately bathroom and shut the door. He didn't release her, but Max could see his eyes scanning the room quickly. She knew he was checking for more cameras. She allowed her eyes to do the same, finding some comfort in switching back into mission-mode, pushing away the turmoil of emotions.

She found one, blinking almost imperceptibly next to the sink—so tiny that it was actually disguised as a motion sensor for the sink. But Max knew that those sensors didn't usually blink. In fact, there was another unobtrusive red light just below the blinking one: the real motion sensor.

She laid her head gently on the crook of Alec's neck, resisting the urge to drink in his heady scent. "Sink," she murmured quietly. "You?"

"Closet," he replied, resting his own lips next to her ear in what might have looked like a kiss. There was an adjoining walk-in closet that connected from the bathroom. He gently put her back down on her feet, and plastered a smile on his face. But Max knew an act when she saw one. His eyes were blank eve as he smiled, the crinkles on the corners were all wrong.

"Come shower with me, Maxie," he drawled suggestively, all the while stalking towards the closet and coming up with towels. He haphazardly kicked off his shoes, and threw a towel over the camera as if by accident.

Max understood immediately, and she too slipped out of her sandals. She smiled enticingly at him, knowing that she couldn't quite hide the truth behind the smile. She slipped her top off, and threw it towards the sink. But because it was such a small scrap of cloth, she only managed to drape it over the faucet, barely covering the camera.

Alec smirked, and slipped his shirt off, throwing it more accurately over the camera. Then, his smile disappeared as he walked towards the shower stall. He yanked it open, and started the water. Max went directly towards the hot tub and turned the faucet on as well. In moments, the only sound in the room was of water crashing down onto tile. The echoes bounced noisily throughout the room, making it sound like a cave next to a waterfall.

Alec stepped inside the shower stall, ignoring the fact that his jeans were now getting soaked. He beckoned for her to join him with an impatient nod of his head. There was nothing overtly sexual about his actions. The stall was surrounded by frosted glass so that even the silhouettes were blurred and distorted.

Max swallowed down her discomfort and followed him inside, keeping as much of her dignity as she could as water splashed over her, soaking her. The shower was state-of-the-art, with a wide head that hung over them, spraying over them like rain. It was loud, like rain, too. It splashed noisily over the marble tile at their feet, masking any of their conversation. The water matted her hair to her head, slipped down her shoulders, and plastered her loose pants against her legs.

Alec was equally as soaked. His dark blond hair was browned by the water. It cascaded over the strong planes of his face, dripping from his long lashes like tears. It washed down his broad, perfectly defined chest, disappearing into the waistband of his pants.

"What was that all about, Max?" he asked quietly.

"What was what all about?" she asked, playing dumb.

"You kissed me."

"Oh, _that,_" she scoffed lightly, but her heart was thundering as she grasped for straws. "You were about to blow our cover. I had to stop you. I mean, we are _supposed_ to be a married couple on our honeymoon…what else do married couples on their honeymoon do?"

"Right." He didn't sound like he believed her. Max couldn't take it if he started making fun of her now. Not when she was already feeling all vulnerable. She self-consciously crossed her arms over her bra-clad chest, as if that action could somehow protect her from Alec.

"I should be asking you what _you_ kissing _me_ was all about," she countered. "At least, I had a damned good reason for jumping you. What's your excuse for man-handling me?"

"I don't need an excuse," he drawled indolently. "Hot, willing female in my arms, why the hell not kiss her?"

Max sucked in a sharp breath, feeling like he had just gutted her with his response. She was just one of many. Worse, one of _any_. She quickly averted her eyes from his, afraid that he would see just how much his words had hurt her, and stared at the swirling pink and white patterns on the marble tile.

How could she have fallen in love with someone like him?

All she had ever wanted was to belong. She had thought that she had found that with Logan. With no one else who could possibly understand her around, she had focused all of her attention and energy on Logan. And she had thought that she had loved the older man.

Was that how she felt about Alec? Because there was no one else to focus her attentions on?

No…what she felt for Alec was different. More overpowering, out of her control. Because, she had still focused on Logan. Yet, Alec had somehow managed to slip under her skin, and sink himself deep into her heart without her realizing it.

And now…well, it just hurt. Because even if she could belong with Alec, it was obvious that he didn't really want her.

"Hey, Max," he snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she almost jumped out of her reverie.

"What?" she glared at him, her eyes angrier than he would understand. He didn't know. Would never know how she felt.

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she realized that for some unfathomable reason, _he _was angry, too. "Will you pay attention?"

She shrugged, and turned her back to him to put her face up towards the spray of water from the shower. She wanted to mask the tears that were threatening to spill any moment. She hated this mission.

She hated the lie of their marriage that she was suddenly wishing wasn't a lie at all.

She hated the fact that at the end of all this, she was going to be divorced.

She hated the fact that at the end of all this, she would be the one who had to watch him walk away.

"What were you saying?" she murmured against the beat of the water on her face.

"We need a plan," he sighed heavily. She heard him lean against the wall, and she turned to glance at him. "How many cameras did you see?"

"Two."

"Where?"

"One by the dresser, just over the mirror. Perfect view of the bedroom. Those sick bastards," she said bitterly. "The other one is over the fireplace in the sitting room. It's on the face of the clock."

"Okay," he ran a hand wearily over his face. "I guess this is their insurance. This is how they make sure that the marriages are validated, and how they keep track of their so-called employees."

"It's sick," Max cried angrily.

"Well, we can't do anything about _that_," he said, rolling his eyes at her. "But if we don't give 'em a show like the one we gave them earlier, they're gonna get suspicious."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. "No."

He scoffed. "Max, how suspicious would it be for you not to jump a hot guy like me? Especially when you're able to do so without question from any religious or legal authorities? I'm yours, babe, how can you resist?"

Max closed her eyes and groaned. She hated it when he turned the tables around on her. He was hers. Yeah, right.

She also hated it when he had one of those mercurial mood changes. He almost always reverted to humor and sarcasm by default, whether he was angry, or hurt, or tired, or whatever else he felt. It made it so much harder to read his intentions.

"Trust me, Alec," she growled. "You're easily resistible." She assured him with a smirk. Two can play his game.

He shrugged. "Yeah, yeah," he waived her comment. "But we still have a mission to accomplish, and that means…"

Max groaned. "I can't believe this!"

"Hey, this ain't a plum assignment for me, either," he retorted.

She gritted her teeth as she recalled those exact same words coming out of his mouth the first time she found out he had been assigned as her Breeding Partner. Apparently, he recognized the same words, because he smiled humorlessly at her.

"Kinda like Manticore, huh?"

"Don't say that. Eyes Only isn't like Manticore," she huffed. "We're doing this for a good cause."

"Oh yeah," he drawled lightly, "You get to kiss a hot guy like me for a good cause. How terrible."

"You have an incredibly inflated ego, you know that?"

"I'm only telling the truth, Maxie," he quipped. "'Sides, you weren't complaining just a few moments ago."

"I was acting!" she lied hotly.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes suddenly shifting away from hers. "Yeah…you had me there for a second."

He had whispered the rest of his statement in such a low voice that Max barely caught what he said. She licked her lips, knowing that she had just imagined the longing she heard in his voice. "Yeah, well don't start jumping to any conclusions," she muttered.

He threw her a sidelong glance, "So, we doing this, or what?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He shrugged nonchalantly.

Max huffed, but knew that he was right. "Fine!" Then she yanked the glass door to the shower stall open and stalked out, unable to stay in the confined space with him anymore. She felt trapped.

The circumstances had her boxed in, and she felt the weight of her emotions squeeze at her all the more. She took a fluffy white towel, and wrapped it around her, then expertly slipped her wet pants off. She threw one at Alec as he sauntered out of the stall a few moments after her.

"Get dressed, honey," she said with mock sweetness. "We have the Welcome Gala to attend in an hour."

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He looked gorgeous.

Max's heart actually did little flip flops. Maybe stopped for more than a single beat.

He stepped out of the closet fully decked out in a simple, elegant black tuxedo. It fit his shoulders perfectly, and tailored down his narrow waist, and long lean legs. He smiled at her, tentatively and indicated with a sheepish gesture towards the ribbons of his bowtie that hung around his neck. "Do you think you could…?"

Max nodded slightly, then stood before him, reaching to tie the bow around his neck. Her fingers were shaking slightly, and she hoped that he didn't notice. He smelled so good from this close, too: a light, citrus-y aftershave, mixed with the fresh scent of his soap, and the clean scent of his skin. Max had to stop herself from leaning into him and inhaling deeply.

She kept her head slightly lowered, her eyes only on what she was doing.

His head was bowed so close to hers, his breath touching her ear lightly. She could feel herself flush slightly, and knew that there was no way she could hide her reaction. She was wearing a black, chiffon evening gown that floated around her ankles in soft waves. It had a halter top, with layers of the crepe-like material intricately woven into a fitted design that accentuated her curves. It also left her back bare all the way to the dip of her spine at the small of her back.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against her ear.

"Alec, you don't have to say that," she sighed against him, tugging at his bow tie to even out each side.

"You don't believe me?"

She shrugged lightly, and he sighed. "Fine, don't believe me."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you look almost as pretty as me," she offered with a small smile.

He grinned at her. "Almost, but not quite, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have married me," he joked.

"Yeah," she retorted just as jokingly. "There's only room for one gorgeous hot wife in this relationship,"

"We're still talking about you, right?"

She punched him lightly on the shoulder, and chuckled. "God, I hope so. I would be a little worried if we weren't."

He cupped her cheek with one hand, and brushed her hair off one shoulder with the other. "I hope you're not questioning my manhood, Maxie," he drawled lightly. He gently dropped a kiss on the top of her forehead. "Or I might just have to rise to the challenge to prove myself to you,"

Max knew he was just doing all of this for the cameras, but she couldn't help but close her eyes and let herself enjoy the warm touch of his lips. Her eyes fluttered open when he pulled back, and she met his questioning hazel ones.

"I don't think I can do this," she muttered, her uncertainty showing on her face.

He pressed his lips tightly together, and his eyes shifted down to his shiny black dress shoes. When they met her brown ones again, those hazel orbs were unreadable. "All you have to do is pretend you love me. Easy as apple pie."

"Easy, huh?" she asked skeptically.

"Is it really that hard?" he asked solemnly, his face strangely distant.

Max could only shake her head mutely, feeling like a broken toy. _Hard?_ It wasn't hard at all. She was already in love with him.

"Then, let's go wow them all, Mrs. McDowell," he said, a smile on his lips as he turned and offered her his arm.

Max took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Tonight, she was going out with her husband. Tonight, she was going to let herself love him, to show him and the world just how much she loved her husband. Because tonight, she was safe enough, knowing that he thought she was only just pretending.

Like he was just pretending.

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**Well, angst galore. Sorry**


	5. Chapter 5: It's Not Real

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine. I've prayed to Tom Cruise…but apparently, he's not a god nor a genie, and can't grant me my wishes.**

**A/N: Due to popular demand and threats from readers, _coughSonam, Sheila, Yoyo, simonvip, Ellie…EVERYBODYcough_, here's another chapter…I just hope it's up to all your expectations! I'm scared now. LOL. No, really, I am.**

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**CHAPTER 5**

Alec handed the pearl-white card to the doorman with a smile. He glanced briefly at Max who was smiling stiffly at the man, her hand tucked neatly into the crook of his elbow. His eyes traced over the silver embossed letters at the top of the invitation that the doorman was perusing:

_Mr. and Mrs. Alec McDowell._

He pressed his lips together, releasing a tight-lipped sigh. _If only,_ he thought briefly, before taking the card back from the doorman.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. McDowell. Enjoy your night."

He tucked the envelope securely in the inside pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he replied graciously. He glanced down at Max who had stiffened almost imperceptibly at being addressed as Mrs. McDowell. She barely managed a polite nod at the liveried doorman.

"Try not to look so constipated," he whispered, pretending to lean over and press a kiss on her temple.

Her smile widened, but her eyes were shooting daggers at him. She pinched the insides of his elbow. Hard. He barely hid his wince and stifled his surprised yelp. "Try not to be an ass," she retorted through her teeth.

He pulled her closer to him. He placed his hand over hers resting in the crook of his elbow. He gripped her fingers tightly to prevent her from pinching him again, all the while making it appear that he was gently caressing that hand. "You _still_ look constipated," he murmured in a sing-song voice.

"I'm two inches away from blowing our cover and kicking your ass," she replied under her breath, matching sing-song his tone, her fingers struggling against his restraining ones.

"Temper, temper," he chided, his lips twitching in amusement.

"I'll show you temper," she growled. He didn't know how she did it. Growling and smiling at the same time, that is. She had talent for undercover, for sure.

"Maybe later," he grinned. He would look forward to it. She simply had no idea how hot she was when she was mad.

She made that little growl again, and he had to suppress the urge to bury his head in the crook of her neck, breathe in her scent, and laugh. Oh God, he _loved_ her. Everything about her. Even the way she growled at him when she was mad.

He was so completely, utterly, no if's, and's, or but's screwed.

They glided across the beautiful foyer towards the large oak doors that led to the gala, and Alec noticed several men glance surreptitiously at Max on their way. He suppressed his own growl, not sure if he was capable of doing that and smiling at the same time.

It was her damned dress.

It was _too_ _much_. Too sexy. Too provocative. Too…oh, who was he kidding? Max looked great no matter what. He ushered her to walk a half-step ahead of him, using his larger body to block any other guy from ogling her very exposed back.

He chanced a glance down at her and felt his breath catch somewhere in his chest. He could see the way her slender back curved, the way her flawless skin glowed golden under the lights, and the way her dark hair curled and caressed the smooth expanse of skin.

He couldn't help it. He switched positions again, this time removing her hand from his sleeve. She looked up at him, her brown eyes questioning. For a moment, she almost looked disappointed that he had let go of her hand. But he was sure he had just imagined it. Chalked it up to wishful thinking and all. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Another side-effect from his marriage to Max.

But, wishful thinking or not, one side of his lips still lifted in a small smirk as he slipped her effortlessly against his side instead.

He kept her left hand in a gentle grip with his own left hand. All the while his right hand slid down her shoulder blades, tracing her spine, resting gently at the perfect dip at the small of her back.

She stiffened slightly, and he could've sworn she stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. Or was that his own breathing that had paused and turned shallow?

Either way, she melted against him, and as far as Alec was concerned, the damned dreamy smile on his face was as real as it got. She felt so good against him that it was all he could do not to pull her aside and kiss her senseless.

She would probably _kick_ him senseless for that.

_Remember, she's just pretending, Alec. She's just doing this for the mission. Nothing more. Remember for the sake of your sanity,_ he reminded himself. He sighed heavily.

"What now?" she asked warily.

"Nothing." He replied hastily. "Just preparing myself. Girding my loins so to speak."

"Please don't mention your loins to me," she sniped, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Figure of speech, Max," he smirked. "Makes me wonder what goes on in your naughty little head."

"Not your loins for sure," she replied.

"The lady doth protest too much methinks," he drawled teasingly.

She gave him an unreadable sideways glance. But before he could make anything of it, they stepped inside the lavish ballroom. He snorted slightly in appreciation, a surprised gasp from Max.

Well, they should have expected the place to be top-notch, high-class, and very fancy. Everything was understated elegance. Fresh-cut flowers lent the air a heady, perfumed scent. There was a live band playing a soft tune, while some couples danced on the polished wooden floor in the center. There were round tables covered in crisp, white linen, white tea candles and petals scattered on top. Champagne flowed freely, hors d'oeuvres circulated efficiently, and there was light laughter and the murmur of voices in the backdrop.

"Not bad," he muttered.

"I hope you're ready for this," whispered Max.

"I'm always ready." He quipped.

"Where have I heard _that_ before?" she noted. "The infamous adventures with _Lola_?" She wrinkled her nose at the memory.

He grinned widely at her. "There was a time when I had sowed my wild oats, Maxie," he drawled. "Those days are gone, so no worries. I am ever yours."

She shook her head at him. "You never stop, do you?" she mumbled.

"Ever considered the idea that I might be telling you the truth?" he asked lightly, keeping his expression bland and playful.

"No." she replied easily. "I totally doubt everything that comes out of your mouth."

_Ouch._ The pained expression on his face was real. But Max didn't know that. She probably just thought he was putting on a show. Like he always did. Sometimes, it became a little difficult to draw the line between pretend and truth.

Pretending to be her husband while _really_ being her husband, for example, was one hell of a headache. Pretending to be in love with her while already in love with her was another headache. Pretending to look hurt when his heart was exploding in agony was one more thing on the list.

And it just went on and on until he wasn't sure he was just pretending anything anymore.

"Let's go and get this over with, Alec," she said, tugging his hand slightly. "I'm getting a headache."

He smirked slightly. At least he wasn't the only one with the headache. There was a _little bit _of justice in the world after all.

She nodded across the ballroom, and he followed the direction of her gaze. The Schulze-Clevens, tall and stately, were holding court at the head of the room. They were surrounded by a few other couples, laughing and chatting amiably.

"They almost look harmless, don't they?" he muttered.

"Yeah, like piranhas."

He stared incredulously at her. "Have you _ever_ seen a real-live piranha?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Because those suckers _do not_ look harmless," he answered with a shake of his head. "They have teeth the size of my pinky." He lifted his finger up to demonstrate his point. "Can you imagine this much teeth digging into you?"

"Shuttup," she groused, but he could see a faint blush climbing her cheeks.

He smiled at her, his expression softening. "They are pretty small," he conceded.

She ducked her head away from him almost shyly. "Whatever."

He wanted to lay a palm against her cheek. He wanted to tilt her face towards him. He wanted to kiss her. "Dance with me," he blurted, the words just coming out of his mouth against his will.

She looked back at him in surprise. "That's not part of the mission," she pointed out quickly.

He pressed his lips together, stomping out the feeling of disappointment. "Our mission is to look like a happily married couple."

"Dancing wasn't within mission parameters," she ground out, her frown deepening. "Talking, smiling, and holding your hand…that's it."

His jaw clenched in an effort to suppress the surprising amount of pain her words were delivering. She didn't even want to be close to him. Here he was looking like the total fool, asking her to dance with him, and in reply, she had outlined what he was _allowed _to do with her. "Fine. Forget it," he said dismissively.

He turned away to find a strong drink to burn away the bitter taste in his mouth. But before he could step away from her, a small hand grabbed his forearm gently. "Wait, Alec," she said hastily.

He turned to look at her, eyebrow cocked, face expressionless. "Yeah?"

"If…" she looked nervous. Her fingers tightened on his arm. "…if you go slowly…I'll dance with you."

He blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She was staring at some imaginary speck on the shoulder of his black tuxedo. Another blush was staining her cheeks. "I've…" she licked her lips and hesitated. "I've never danced like that, okay? It's not exactly on the priority list for a life on the run."

"Oh," he whispered. Suddenly, he felt like an enormous amount of weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. "Why didn't you just say so?"

She glared at him. "_I just_ _did_."

He smiled tenderly at her. He threaded his fingers with hers, holding her hand as he pulled her onto the dance floor. "It's easy. Just follow my lead."

She looked skeptically at him. "Somehow, that doesn't sound very easy."

He pulled her close to him, and lowered his head to rest against hers, cheek-to-cheek. "Trust me."

He almost missed it because her voice was so low, but he heard her whispered, "I do."

Those two words made him feel like he was literally floating. A smile spread over his face, and he didn't give a damn if he was glowing or not. There was no shame in being in love—even if the girl thought he was only pretending. He guided her through the steps of the simple waltz, grudgingly thanking Manticore for the lessons, and for the fact that Max had an amazing learning curve.

Within moments, they were flying through the dance floor like they had danced together countless times. Like they belonged in each other's arms, moving together in perfect synchronization.

Alec pulled Max closer to him, her body brushing against his. His hand was warm on the skin of her back, his fingers tightly holding her hand. He never wanted to let her go.

But he would have to. Soon.

The thought caused him to slow down, as if someone had replaced those weights around his shoulders. He pulled her to the side of the dance floor. He stopped dancing, but still held her in his arms, just swaying side-to-side. She laid her hand against his chest, and he touched his lips to her temple, brushing them in a butterfly light kiss.

He wanted this forever.

Was that such a bad thing?

"Max?" he murmured against her hair, still holding her close to him, their bodies moving to the whine of the violin in the background.

"Hmm?"

"What happens when this is over?" he asked, his throat tight and his voice hoarse.

She pulled back enough so she could look up at him. "We'll go talk to the Schulze-Clevens and see what we can get out of them," she replied matter-of-factly. Then, surprisingly, she laid her cheek back against his chest.

He swallowed painfully, hiding his relief and disappointment at her misunderstanding of his question with a small chuckle. "I meant, after this cruise," he ventured again. "What happens when this cruise is over?"

This time, she pulled away until their bodies were once again two completely separate beings. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…_us_."

She looked stunned. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She was blinking rapidly. Breathing shallowly. Panicking.

And then she was shaking her head.

"I see," he sighed. He shrugged and smiled at her, masking the incredible pain he felt at her rejection. "I just…y'know, wanted to know."

"Right," she breathed out in a rush.

"I mean, you and me…" he forced out a little chuckle. "…we fight all the time, we don't get along, we don't have the same taste in music…"

"…we aren't _real_." She finished. "This isn't real…is it?"

"Yeah," He felt like someone had robbed him of his heart and soul at that moment. "I mean…no…I mean, you're right, we're not. I mean…it's just a piece of paper that says we're married. You and me…doesn't exactly make a 'we', does it?"

There was a strange pause, as he stared at her bowed head, her eyes firmly on his bowtie. Finally, he saw her take a deep breath. "Right. _Of course_, there's no 'we'," she agreed.

"No kidding."

They stared at each other with equally stricken expressions. Alec wondered why there was a sheen of tears in her eyes. Probably because he had just been stupid enough to remind her that they were truly and actually married.

"Max," he whispered. "Logan will figure out a way to get us out of this mess."

She looked away, obviously fighting back the tears. Obviously feeling guilty about Logan. _Damn._ He hugged her to him to comfort her. "Hey, if there's anyone who can undo what we've done…it's him, y'know? He's like super geek with the powers to erase this mistake from every database known to mankind." _Too bad he wouldn't be able to erase her imprint on his soul._

He felt like he was slowly killing himself with every word that came out of his mouth. But if that was what Max needed to hear…then that was what he was saying.

"Alec!" The booming voice of Wulfgang broke them apart with a start. "Glad you could make it!"

Using his years of training, Alec tucked away all of the conflicting emotions inside of him, and slipped into his role easily, a bright, happy grin plastered firmly on his face. "Wouldn't miss this for the world!"

The men shook hands, and Max smiled politely as Wulf brought her hand up to his lips.

"Not even when you have some very…_distracting_…things to do?" asked the older man, his bushy eyebrows waggling playfully.

Max smiled placidly at Wulfgang. "We're just extremely grateful for the invitation, Wulf," she said softly. "Besides, we have the rest of our lives to be…_distracted._"

Alec took the cue and pulled her to him in a possessive gesture, fitting her perfectly against his side. "That's the beauty of marriage it lasts…_for the rest of our lives_, right, Maxie?"

She didn't say anything, just smiled thinly and nodded.

"How utterly true…for the _rest of your lives_," Wulfgang smiled indulgently at them, as if he were the reason for their happiness. "Well, kids, enjoy the party. There's lots of food, drinks, and amusements."

"Oh, we will," grinned Alec. Then he pretended to look around. "Where's our hostess?"

"I would love to compliment her on her taste," agreed Max, looking around as well. "Our suite is…very comfortable, and the décor in here is just…beautiful." Alec almost laughed out loud. At least, she was trying.

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," nodded the older man. "She's here somewhere. When I see her, I'll be sure to pass along your sentiments."

"Thank you."

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he smiled benevolently at them. "I have other guests to greet. The duties of a host can be quite taxing." He pulled a comical face. Alec and Max both laughed appropriately as was expected.

"Of course," replied Alec. "I'm certain Max and I can be trusted to _amuse_ ourselves."

"Good, good," said Wulfgang, patting Alec on the shoulder paternally. "You two lovebirds do that."

With that, the older man moved past them.

"_Lovebirds?_" growled Max.

"Would you prefer hot monkey lovers?" he drawled sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Anyway, did you see that?"

"You mean, the way he glanced upwards when we asked about his wife?" asked Alec, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Exactly," she murmured. "Think that there are more cameras and she's monitoring them?"

"No doubt."

"So, how're we gonna do this?"

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Alec cursed under his breath just before he gathered his leg muscles and leapt up towards the next landing. He was glad that the ship's decks were all tiered. He wasn't entirely interested in dangling like this over the ocean.

He swung his leg over the railing and effortlessly pulled himself over. By his calculations, the office had to be somewhere around here. Max was making her way from the inside, and he was trying his luck from the outside.

He quietly picked the lock and slipped inside one of the doors. One glance and he realized that this part of the ship certainly no longer looked like the Love Boat. Everything, from the carpets to the walls looked very plain and unadorned. "Something tells me I'm not in Kansas anymore," he muttered to himself.

"Talking to yourself now?" drawled a voice directly on top of him.

Alec nearly jumped in surprise. He looked up at the high ceiling, where Max had suspended herself by bracing her arms and legs against the opposite walls. Careful to wear a nonchalant smirk on his face, he lied, "I knew you were there, Maxie."

"Sure you did." She quipped, sarcasm dripping from her tone. "That's why your hairs are standing on end, and your pulse is racing."

"That's just cuz you're hot," he replied easily. "And I can practically see up your dress."

She glared at him. "You're sick, you know that?" she scolded him.

"I'm appreciating you, and that's sick?" he asked with a mock frown.

"No, the fact that you'd even look up my dress is," she snapped. "Get out of the way, I need to get down, I'm losing my damned grip because of these shoes."

That was when Alec realized that she was holding both her little tiny strappy sandals in one hand, and that she was barefoot. Something vaguely sexy about that. He grinned at the thought. Hell, everything about Max was sexy. But having her hanging over him, strappy sandals in one hand, barefooted, in a dress to kill, going all soldier-and-cat-burglar-like…well, that was something else altogether.

With a sly grin, he took one step to the side, giving her just enough room to jump down. Pushing her knees against the wall, she dropped effortlessly onto the carpet next to him…but her skirts settled and draped over his shoulders. He grinned widely at her irate expression as she pulled her dress back down over her exposed legs.

"You ass," she hissed. "You did that on purpose!" A faint blush was painting her cheeks, turning her flushed and beautiful.

"You can't prove that," he smiled even wider.

She slapped him on his shoulder. "Aarrgh, you're so _frustrating_!"

"And you're so _entertaining_," he replied cheekily. "I mean, you just keep coming up with new acts…throwing yourself at me, kissing me, hanging from the ceiling, hanging _out_ of your dress, pulling your skirt up…" he recounted, ticking each item off with his fingers.

She narrowed her eyes at him, the only warning sign from her, just before she punched him in the solar plexus. Hard. With a huff, she spun around and walked away.

He released a small _oomph_, his eyes watering slightly at her blow, but he was still smiling. He leaned against the wall and watched the way her hips swayed as she marched away from him. He watched her until she turned around a corner and disappeared. "Maxie, wait up," he called, finally managing to stagger after her.

By the time he caught up with her, she was already crouched at the door in the very end of the long hallway, using one of her hairpins to pick the lock. "This is the surveillance office," she whispered as he approached her.

"How do you know?" he asked, snapping back to the task at hand. He glanced over his shoulder, keeping a lookout. His eyes roved around the hallway assessing whether there were cameras around here as well. He found none.

"Saw Claudia walk out of here, surveillance tape in hand," she replied. She looked up at him and noticed what he was doing. "No cameras, I already checked. Seems our hosts like privacy. Too bad they don't feel the same way about sharing that privacy with others."

"So, when you say you saw Claudia walk out of here," he mused. "Were you suspended up on the ceiling, too?"

She elbowed him on the thigh and he flinched lightly. "Shuttup!"

"I'm just…y'know, being thorough," he muttered. "So I can re-enact the scene in my head and get the bigger picture of what happened."

She glared laser beams at him. "Can you be serious for two seconds?"

"I am serious! You're just being too uptight."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are!" he ground out. "You've done nothing but complain and yell the whole time we've been on this cruise. I'm just trying to lighten things up."

She stood up, obviously no longer interested in finishing the task at hand. Straightening her shoulders, she rounded on him and started jabbing a finger against his chest. "You know _why_ I've done nothing but complain and yell the whole time?" she whispered heatedly. "Because _you've_ done nothing but get on my nerves and annoy me the whole time!"

The final jab was also a shove, pushing him until he was completely backed against the wall. She was getting mad, and he was playing with fire. Her hair had shaken lose from its pins and framed her face—which was only an inch away from his. Alec couldn't breathe, she was so beautiful; every impulse in him told him to lean forward and capture those angry lips in a searing kiss.

Naturally, he couldn't do that. So, he opened his mouth instead. "Actually, getting on your nerves and annoying you are technically the same thing," he pointed out.

Her face scrunched up in an effort to suppress a possible shriek of frustration.

She still looked gorgeous scrunchy-faced.

"_See_?" she cried through gritted teeth. "See what I mean with the annoying part?"

"What can I say? It's a gift," he drawled with mock ease.

His heart was started to pound erratically, sending blood roaring through him, as she grabbed the lapels of his coat in anger. She pulled him to her forcibly, but only so that she could growl right in his face. Then, suddenly she released him, sending him against the wall again.

"I just want this over with, okay," she sighed tiredly, as if suddenly drained. She looked sad and confused, her shoulders drooping slightly. "I just want to go back to…reality."

"Reality?"

"Yeah, back to the real world, where I don't have to spend twenty-four hours a day with you pretending to be your wife."

Alec felt like she had punched him in the gut again. Only this time, it felt like she had used a jackhammer. He released a mocking laugh. "You _are_ my wife," he articulated, his voice low but deliberate.

"_Stop saying that!"_

This time, it was his turn to advance on her, forcing her to step back until she was leaning against the wall on the other side of the narrow hall. "Why, Maxie?" he whispered, the low tone of his voice underlying the anger that laced through it. "Does it make it any less real if I don't say it out loud? Does it make it any less of the truth?"

Her back was pressed against the wall completely, but she was still glaring defiantly up at him. "It's not real, Alec…not if it started out as a mistake," she replied, the calm of her voice matching his, the anger equally potent.

Alec paused at the truth of her words. He searched her angry eyes, finding unshed tears in them. He lifted his palm to cup her cheek, realizing that his anger had dissipated at the sight of her stricken face, replaced by an aching tenderness to make those tears go away.

"Max…if it _hadn't_ been a mistake…would it be real?" he asked softly, leaning over her, their noses almost touching. He could almost feel sparks between them, making him feel more alive than at any other time.

Being with Max made him feel alive. It made the world more colorful, made his body thrum with energy and heat, made him feel like the everything could fall to pieces but he would still be all right.

She looked away from him. "But that's not the point, is it?" she replied testily. "Because it _already_ started out as a mistake. _We_ are a mistake."

Alec closed his eyes, afraid that she would see how much it hurt for her to say those words. He started to pull away from her, the glow from being near her dying at the pain.

But just then, he heard footsteps heading their direction. With a bitter smile, he felt no qualms about making the most of their twisted situation. Alec captured her lips in the kiss he had been wanting all night. He pressed his lips against hers with a bruising tenderness. His lips were soft and insistent, telling her with this kiss everything he could never say with words.

He framed her face with his large hands gently, holding her to him, his body pushing hers against the wall. He told her how much he adored her by the way he kissed every inch of her lips, tasting her, savoring her responses. He told her how much he needed her in the way his hands slipped around her back, holding her tightly, like she was his lifeline. He told her how much he wanted her by the way his body responded to the softness of hers, his heart racing, body heating and hardening. He told her how much he loved her by the single tear that slipped past a closed eyelid. A love that he knew she could never return.

She pulled away from him slightly when the tear mingled into their kiss. She searched his face, but he was a coward, and instead ducked his head to nibble along her jawline. She purred in delight, and he felt her knees weaken as she leaned into him.

She tugged at his head slightly, pulling him back to her. "Kiss me, Alec," she breathed.

With a groan, he renewed the kiss with fervor, pulling her even closer to him.

She moaned as he squeezed her tightly in passion, pushing both of them against the wall, needing something solid to keep him grounded. He bit her lower lip and growled with satisfaction as she tilted her head more for him. He felt one of her legs snake around to hook around his hip drawing him tantalizingly closer to her.

He pushed against her, their hips joining as close, and as far as their clothes would allow.

"Hey!"

The voice broke through Alec's haze of passion.

"You're not supposed to be here!" The man was stalking angrily towards them. He was large, barrel-chested, and ham-fisted. "This is a _restricted_ area!"

Alec opened his mouth to deliver a smooth, cocky reply, when, all of a sudden, Max's open palm slapped him clean across the face. His head snapped sideways with the force, his eyes stinging with tears from the pain. Then with one strong shove, she pushed him away from her until he slammed against the opposite wall of the hall.

"_GET OFF ME_!" she cried, her voice almost hysterical. Then throwing an unreadable, anguished look in his direction, she pushed past the angry security guard in a half-run.

Leaving Alec, still reeling from the slap, to look after her. He raised a hand to gingerly touch his burning cheek, but all he felt was the constriction in his chest, the inability to draw a real breath, and the sensation that he was dying of a broken heart.

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**A/N2: Well…so sue me. **


	6. Chapter 6: Just A Job

**DISCLAIMER****: Dark Angel belongs to Cameron/Eglee and Fox…not lil ol' me.**

**A/N**As y'all know, it's been forever and a day since I've updated any Dark Angel. That ABC thing didn't really count since that wasn't really a story. But, as some of you who chat with me know…I'm sort of…well jumping off board the M/A ship…hard to get back into it, too. So, I'm so sorry for…well, for everything. It's been a struggle to write anything, and I just hope I haven't disappointed y'all.

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**Chapter Six**

**JUST A JOB**

Max stormed into their suite, allowing her anger to burn off all the tears that might have poured down her face. She was such an _idiot!_ She had gone ahead and kissed him again. _Really_ kissed him.

And he had only been using her for cover.

She threw her purse onto the bed with a satisfying _thwack!_ before making a beeline for the bathroom. She was already removing articles of her clothing on her way, dropping them carelessly on the floor. First one shoe, then another. Followed by her shawl that drifted softly onto the carpeted floor. She couldn't give a damn about appearances or whether Alec would think she was a slob and all.

She didn't care.

She stepped onto the beautiful marble bathroom and rolled her eyes. With a quick check, she noted that Alec's towel was still over the camera inside the adjoining closet, but the camera hidden by the sink had her in plain view.

She just didn't care.

She slipped her dress over her lithe body, wondering who was watching her from the other side. Alec couldn't appreciate her, maybe someone else could. She slowed her angry movements so that it was almost a striptease. The black dress slid down her body with barely a whisper, landing in a dark pool at her feet.

Gingerly, she stepped out of the dress, leaving it at the threshold of the bathroom. Then, with languid grace, she slinked towards the sink, clad only in her underwear. She stood directly in front of the camera and slowly removed her earrings. Then, she worked on releasing her hair from the pins that kept the waves in place.

She dropped each pin one by one onto the pink natural glass sink. Each one fell with a distinctive _clink_. Then with a vigorous, seductive shake of her head she released the mass of dark curls, allowing it to fan softly around her face.

She stared at herself intently at the mirror. Her dark brown eyes were glazed with unshed tears that she refused to acknowledge. Her full lips were redder and swollen from Alec's kisses, some of her lipstick smeared very lightly over the edges. Her dusky skin was still flushed from the fever he had awoken in her. She slowly raised her fingers to touch her lips, feeling as if Alec had left his imprint on them forever.

Damn him.

She closed her eyes and worked on pushing him away from her consciousness. She was on a job. This was all just pretend. She was getting caught up in something that meant absolutely nothing to him.

Slowly, she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, eyes still closed.

"Will you be needing help with that, Mrs. McDowell?" Alec's husky voice broke through her reverie. Her eyes snapped open to reveal Alec's reflection behind hers. He was leaning casually against the far wall of the bathroom. His bow tie hung loosely around his neck, the top two buttons on his white shirt hung open, and she could still see the faint red mark on his cheek where her hand had met his face.

She turned around swiftly, looking at him over her shoulder.

Her eyes were blazing with fury. It was a good thing the camera wouldn't be able to catch it. "Get out." she seethed.

He shifted on his feet, followed by a clinking sound. That was when she noticed a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes in his hand. "You don't mean that, Maxie," he said softly, a smirk on his face, playing acting for the camera.

She turned around fully, hands on her hips. "I mean it, Alec. Get out!"

He pushed away from the wall and started walking towards her instead. He gestured towards the trail of clothes she had left behind. "You mean, this wasn't for me?" he asked, a boyishly innocent look on his face. "Like those bread crumbs in that fairy tale, what was it? Kid in a red hood, or something like that."

"_Little Red Riding Hood _was eaten by a wolf," she retorted, her brown eyes watching him warily as he continued to approach her, the glasses for the champagne clinking together.

"Sounds like fun…can I be the wolf?" His grin turned downright predatory.

"No!" Max felt herself backing away until the coldness of the marble sink sunk into the bare skin of her lower back. She hated that she felt like a cornered animal around him.

He paused slightly, a bemused look on his face. "Okay, then. I'd still look cute in a red riding hood…but I'd have to warn you, there's nothing little about me."

Her heart rate quickened, and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Somehow, she didn't doubt _that _at all.

He slowly came to stand in front of her, and she was almost afraid to breathe. He was so close—too close for her comfort. If she inhaled, she'd be breathing _him_ in. "There are no bread crumbs in that story," she murmured, trying to focus on their inane conversation.

"No?" he breathed huskily. He leaned forward, and she leaned further back. He braced both his arms on both sides of her, placing the bottle and the glasses on the stone surface behind her.

"No." She was trembling. With every brush of his coat jacket over her bare skin, her heart skipped a beat. With every breath that tickled her ear, she melted inside. He bent forward closer to her, their bodies not really touching, but close enough so that she could feel the heat of him throughout the entire length of her. "Oh, well, that's too bad. I would have been real cute."

Max clenched her teeth, fighting her reaction to his nearness. She took solace in the fact that he could still annoy her. She held on to that annoyance like it was a lifeline. "Cute?" she mocked. "You're kidding, right?"

"Dashing?" he volunteered, his hazel eyes sparkling.

She tilted her head in exasperation, working hard to ignore his nearness. "Try 'ridiculous' on for size. Because really, Alec, you're just ridiculous." With that, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed. She needed the space. She felt suffocated.

But he didn't budge. She tried again, only to have him brace himself harder against the sink, his arms still on either side of her.

"Has anyone ever told you how incredible you smell?" he murmured, as if she hadn't been trying to push him off of her the whole time.

"What?" she asked, her face scrunched in confusion.

"You smell really good. I think I would know your scent anywhere."

She blinked with deliberate slowness, trying to assimilate what he was telling her. "_Okay_…And your point is?"

He looked at her with that amused, tender expression on his face. "I'm just saying."

Max looked away from him and fought the need to hyperventilate. The look on his face, the tenderness in those eyes, the soft voice, the warm body, the…_everything_…was bothering her. It was like he was sucking her soul into himself, and she had to stop him. She _had_ to. "Alec, what the hell is your problem?"

He leaned into her suddenly, and she was so afraid he was going to kiss her, that she turned her head away from him. She felt him pause midway, before gently allowing his lips to touch her ear. "Let's see…I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon, so I'm going to pretend I'm having a honeymoon. Is that a problem?"

Her hands closed into fists, crumpling his shirt. She pulled him closer to her and whispered one word into his ear, "Yes." She wasn't sure whether it was the 'honeymoon' part or the 'pretend' part that bothered her more, but she wasn't going to waste time debating that. Instead, she pushed him away from her as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards, but caught himself quickly.

There was a look—a cross between frustration and pain—that slashed across his face, but he quickly covered it up by smiling boyishly at her. Max wondered if she had just imagined the whole thing.

He threw his jacket off, tossing it into the room. "Max," he said calmly, that irritating smile still on his face. "We have a job to do…" he continued, this time unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt.

It was like another stab in the gut. A job. She was just a job. How much lower could a girl sink?

He started to pull his white shirt out of his pants and unbutton that, too. Max's mouth went dry. _He didn't actually mean to—_She frantically searched his face for any sign of his intentions, but all she saw was that crooked smile and his long lean fingers working on the buttons of his shirt. "Alec…what are you doing?" Her voice was shrill, almost panicked.

But his eyes, when they met hers, were furious. The smile was still on his face, but she noticed that it was strained and forced. "I'm going to have my honeymoon night."

"The hell you are!" she cried, the old flame of her anger fired up in response to his. Her hand reached behind her and grabbed a hold of the bottle of champagne.

"Honey, if you throw that at me, it's not gonna look very good," he drawled maddeningly, his hazel eyes sparking green fire. "Now, come here."

"I'm not coming anywhere near you," she bit out. She was lying, of course. He had thrown his crisp white shirt off, leaving only his undershirt on. The thin cotton material stretched taut over his leanly muscled chest. His hair was slightly mussed, possibly from her own fingers running through them earlier that night.

She wanted to do it all over again. "I don't want to." She murmured, more for herself than anything else.

"Then I'll go over there," he said simply, walking over towards her. "It's not like you don't look like you're ready for me."

Max was instantly reminded of her state of undress. It would have been funny, if her body hadn't suddenly felt like it was on fire. "Don't flatter yourself," she fumed, ignoring her own body's reactions.

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I'm not." He growled. Then, without warning, he forcefully gathered her into his arms. For the third time in twenty-four hours, Max felt herself melting against Alec. She knew she couldn't fight him. Not when they were right in front of the cameras. Not when all she really wanted to do was sink into him.

"Kiss me." he ordered, his lips hovering just over hers.

Max felt a war rage on inside of her. He was forcing her to make the first move. He was putting the decision in her hands. But she knew this whole thing for what it _really_ was. It was all an act. Pretend. Make believe. A fairy tale.

With no happily ever after.

She looked up at him, knowing that her face was serene and calm. Too serene. Too calm. But it was self-preservation. "_Pretend_ to kiss you, you mean?" she murmured softly. There was no use not calling things out the way they really were.

She saw a muscle tick in his jaw, his teeth were clenched, and his hazel eyes narrowed slightly. There was an eternity of silence, and Max could have sworn she felt the rapid tattoo of his heart beat against her chest as he continued to hold her close to him.

"Then don't kiss me," he muttered, just before he leaned in and started to rain light, butterfly kisses down the side of her neck.

Max felt herself respond instantly to his touch, a moan quickly escaping her lips. She threw her head back and leaned into his kisses even more. She felt her fingers caress their way up his arms, over his broad shoulders, and diving into his thick, tousled hair.

Her fingers ran lightly over his scalp and pulled lightly on his hair. He had such soft hair. She loved his hair. She loved his lips. She loved the way his arms held her so tight against him, yet so gently that she felt completely safe. She loved the way his hot breath blew over the sensitive areas of her skin, drawing goosebumps of sensation all over her. She loved how he said her name. She loved his smile and his eyes.

She loved all of him.

And she was just his job.

"Alec," she rasped in a breathless whisper, tears in her voice. She drew him even closer to herself. His lips were over her collarbone now, wet and soft, biting gently, making her gasp for breath.

Suddenly, her feet were off the floor, as she was swept easily into the cradle of his arms.

She couldn't protest. She didn't want to. Not even as he laid her on the large bed and quickly took his shirt and pants off.

Her heart was in her throat, her blood pounding in anticipation and want. He quickly joined her in bed and pulled the covers over both of them.

There was a moment—just a second, really—when a jolt of electricity seemed to have burned through both of them the second their skins touched. Max literally gasped at the heat that was emanating from Alec's body. She had wanted to touch all of him.

But then, he was kissing her cheek again. He was making a tantalizing trail of kisses down her neck, towards the valley between her breasts. He leaned his weight on his forearms, resting on both sides of her head, his body poised over her.

Max was torn between stopping him, and urging him on. A part of her wanted him—all of him. And yet, another part of her would not allow herself to sink so low as to be _used_. But before she could say something, he rested his head just next to hers, and whispered, "It's too dark for them to really see anything…now might be a good time to pretend to…y'know."

_Pretend._

Well, there was her answer. She could only nod stiffly in response. Max felt her whole body go numb. Here she was getting carried away, and all the while Alec had kept his head in the game.

She was ashamed of herself. Better yet, she was _furious_. She would show him.

Like flicking on a switch, Max pushed away all her emotions and put her mind to the task at hand. She had one mission: to punish Alec.

A slow, feral smile spread over her lips. She leaned up and allowed those lips to touch the base of the column of his throat. She heard him hiss slightly in response, and felt her satisfaction increase tenfold. She licked the sensitive spot, and this time, she felt his Adam's apple bob up and down.

She allowed her hands to rove across his back, then deliberately dug her nails into claws across his skin. His muscles bunched in reaction to the pain, at the same time she bit him just over his heart.

"_Damn,_" he groaned.

He suddenly jerked forward, and Max was brought to instant awareness of _him._ She could feel him in between the layers of their clothes. Her eyes flew up to meet his. "_I hate you,_" she whispered huskily.

"Not as much as I hate you," he retorted just as breathlessly. He thrust again.

Max bit her lip and drew her long, shapely legs out of the covers. She hooked one leg around his waist, and rubbed the other up and down against his hip. To all the cameras, it would look like they were having one hell of a night.

"Stop that," he demanded through gritted teeth. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

But Max was feeling both raw and angry, and she bared her teeth at him in challenge. "Then finish."

His lips quirked into an arrogant smile. "I never finish first," he replied. "Do you need help? I'd be more than happy to help. I have a feeling you're a little repressed."

Max could have gladly punched him right then and there. "Shuttup!"

"Or maybe, it's that you've never had one before," he suggested.

She dug her nails deeply into his back and leaned up towards him. She touched her lips against his ear seductively. "Listen carefully, Alec, because this'll be the only way you'll ever get this from me," she murmured quietly. Then, she arched herself until her whole body was touching his, scraped her nails across the muscles of his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and released an earth shattering scream into his ear.

* * *

Max stared up at the ceiling hours later. She hated her shark DNA, because it meant that she couldn't slip into the oblivion of sleep and leave reality for a while. It would have been so nice to just pretend.

It would be so easy to stay where she was: in Alec's arms, held tightly against his warm body. Some time in the middle of the night, after they'd finished bickering and insulting each other, Alec had fallen asleep.

And then, later, Max felt him roll towards her and draw her into his arms.

She had been helpless to resist.

It would be so easy to snuggle even more against him, inhale his scent, and listen to his heartbeat. It would be so easy to run her fingers through his hair and listen to him breathe.

But now, with dawn approaching, she knew that she couldn't keep on pretending. She couldn't keep doing what they had done last night and not _slip_. She knew she would never be able to stop herself from wanting more. From wanting _this_—being in his arms—to be part of reality.

So, steeling herself, she turned over and pushed away from him.

"Max?" he muttered sleepily, his voice husky with sleep.

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to feel the tiny bit of warmth in her heart at the knowledge that her name was the first thing he said, and nobody else's.

She pulled away and threw her legs over the edge of the bed. She made sure to keep her back to him so he couldn't see her stricken expression.

She heard some rustling of the sheets, and figured he had pulled himself up on his elbow.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice still sleepy.

"I can't do this, Alec," she whispered in the dark. "We can't afford to screw up this mission."

"So, what're you saying?" he asked, his tone alert and awake.

"We have to screw up our marriage, instead."

**TBC**

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**A/N2: Thank you for reading. It's been readers (and especially reviewers) like you who have kept me going and motivated to finish my WiP's in Dark Angel. Thank you. **


	7. Chapter 7: This Was War

Disclaimer: Dark Angel isn't mine

**Disclaimer: Dark Angel isn't mine. This is not for profit. Yadayadayada.**

**A/N: Sorry for the extreme delay…but this is all I got out of me in the hiatus. This might be it for a long time again, because school is starting up again. Enjoy the chapter! Thanks to everyone who has supported me and this story all this time.**

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**CHAPTER 7:**

**This was War **

Alec glanced over towards Max surreptitiously. She was pacing back and forth, one hand on her hip, the other holding an oversized cellphone close to her ear. Her face was twisted into a frustrated frown, her full lips turned downward, and that little line between her brows kept growing deeper and more pronounced.

"_No_, Logan, we have everything under control over here," she grumbled into the phone, her voice just slightly tinged with exasperation.

Alec almost laughed out loud at the blatant lie. _Under control?_ Sure, if control meant chaos, confusion, and the general feeling of constantly slipping and falling.

In the last six hours since _The Love Boat_ had docked onshore, they had scouted the tourist village for a place that would allow them access to a computer. In the end, they had rented a small office in a tiny beach resort for the day. It had taken a considerable amount of

Alec's charm, and even more of the cash they had pick-pocketed from the tourists to get the small office. But it was worth it, giving them access everything they needed to view the surveillance videos Max had nixed from the ship.

"Logan…_please_…don't ask." Max's voice was a small plea, quavering with vulnerability. Alec sighed heavily. He wondered if Max had ever heard herself speak with Logan. It was as if Logan just sapped all the fire out of her like a retardant.

Alec had never been one to really hate anyone—he was more or less the type to not care—but Logan was really closing in on that emotion. _Especially when it comes to the way he keeps treating Max, _he thought grimly. He smirked to himself. He had every right to feel the way he felt; Max was his wife, after all. He rolled his eyes at his thoughts and swiveled in his leather chair. He leaned back until it was reclined down to a very relaxing angle, then he hooked his legs on the desk and stared out of the large sliding glass doors.

They had a fantastic view of the beach. The place had barely been touched by the Pulse, and was just beautiful. The sand on the beach was fine white powder, glistening in the brilliant sun like sugary crystals. The water that crashed on the shore was so blindingly blue, Alec had to blink several times to adjust his vision every time his gaze wandered towards it. If he looked over towards the horizon, it was almost impossible to tell where the water ended and the sky began.

It was like the world was mocking him with its perfection because he was feeling completely, totally off his hinges. Nuts. Crazy. Unstable. Irrational. Like he could just wrap his hands around Logan's neck and wring it for sending him and Max on this stupid mission.

But Logan wasn't really the reason why he was so upset. On any given day, an EO mission would've been a breeze. A distraction from the sheer monotony of his life as a Transgenic bike messenger of unfulfilled potential. No…the problem was that the mission had clearly crossed unseen boundaries and was now his _life._ It was enough to drive a sane Transgenic over the cuckoo's nest.

But Max, of course, didn't know that. As far as she seemed to be concerned, they were _only_ on a Mission for the great Eyes Only. She had a one-track mind, and was hell-bent on accomplishing this mission. Too bad it also meant ripping his heart right out of his chest cavity because she put their mission over their marriage.

Granted, it wasn't a real marriage.

But…it was easy for him to forget that part. Unfortunately, with every second married to Max, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she wanted nothing to do with him. And he was tired of having his pride stomped on every step of the way.

Last night, he had been so mad at her for slapping him that he had wanted to torture her about their "wedding night". Except that he hadn't expected her to be walking around half-naked already.

He almost groaned out loud at the image of Max in her dark, lacy underwear. Instead, he had to force his thoughts towards less pleasurable ones. Like the way Max had kept completely silent about what her plan was for "ruining" their marriage.

_Shouldn't be hard_, he thought with a grimace.

"Okay, let's get started," announced Max, walking over towards him, flipping the phone shut.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Start with what, exactly?"

Max grabbed her large canvas bag and took out the discs she had stolen last night. She casually dropped them onto the desk. "You can look over those tapes and find anything that might be outta whack about the cruise."

Alec wrinkled his nose, as he carefully sorted through the tapes. "And what are _you_ gonna do?"

Max shrugged easily and threw her long hair over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go and pick out my next husband."

"_WHAT_!!" Alec almost fell backwards in his chair. Only is feline reflexes saved him from an embarrassing spill. He pushed himself forward and both his feet landed on the wooden floors with a thud. He looked at Max incredulously, feeling like the chair and the rest of the world had really fallen from under him.

She gave him a withering stare, her lips curled up in disdain. "We are trying to find a way to break up our marriage, aren't we?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Noooo…_you_ are trying to find a way out of this marriage. I'm fine just the way I am," he huffed.

She stared incredulously at him. "You really like screwing with me, don't you?"

"If by _screwing _you mean—"

"Shuttup!" she yelled quickly, raising a hand in front of her, a look of disgust on her face. "If you could you just be serious for one second, we might actually get something done. The sooner we get Logan what he needs, the sooner we can go back to being…"

"To being what, exactly, Max?" he asked pointedly. "What we were before? Do I go back to being your punching bag on a bike? Your friendly neighborhood partner-in-crime? What exactly have I been to you in all the time we've known each other?" His heart was pounding heavily, half-afraid and half-eager to hear what she would say.

She swallowed heavily and frowned. But she stayed silent and refused to answer his question. Instead she tossed him a surveillance disc and he caught it easily in the air. "Let's just do this, okay?" she said in a subdued voice.

"I still don't get why you have to have all the fun," he griped only half-jokingly in an effort to switch the subject.

She threw her hands up in the air with an irritated growl. "Know what? Fine! You pick one, too!"

He stared incredulously at her. "Pick one?"

"Yeah. Look over the tapes and pick a girl. Boink her, marry her, have ten fat babies with her, _whatever_!" She slammed the disc she was holding onto the desk, then gripped the edges until her knuckles were white. She was gritting her teeth and refused to look at him.

Alec was so taken aback that he actually felt like he'd been hit by a linebacker. He leaned towards her, peering into her down-turned face and past the curtain of dark hair. "You mean…you don't mind if I…?"

Max turned to look at him, her face pale but blank. Her eyes were dark and angry, but her tone was even and calm. "Put it this way, _I'm_ doing _you_ a favor." She turned to face him fully, hands on her hips. She added a sassy tilt to her head and smirked. "You're never gonna get to tap _this _honey, so…go ahead."

Alec licked his lips which had suddenly gone dry. He couldn't believe that Max had just voluntarily pushed him towards another woman. But _of course_ she would. Nonetheless, he felt hollow inside: if she touched him, he would crumble into nothingness.

He licked his lips again, regaining his composure, steeling himself. He looked at her, head tilted haughtily and lips twisted in a smirk. "You know…you're right. I think it's about time I had some fun on this vacation."

Her eyes turned stone cold. "It's _not_ a vacation."

He knew his smile was just as cold. "It is now."

Alec didn't know why, but Max's expressionless face flickered a bit, and he could have sworn he saw a look of hurt pass over her face. But then she spun around quickly, pulled up a chair, and sat down on it with little grace.

Alec stared at her stiff back. He wanted to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder and ask her not to keep her back to him. At the same time, he didn't exactly want to see the look of disgust on her face anymore. He slowly released a pent-up breath he didn't even know he had been holding. He didn't know what he was supposed to do next. For the mission's sake, he knew he should be looking through those discs and picking his target.

But he just couldn't make himself do it. The idea actually left a bitter taste in his mouth. And the idea that Max would be off doing her own undercover scheme…it hurt. A lot.

He sat like a statue, his shoulders taut, his stomach twisted in knots, his throat tight. He felt a small knot of pain under his shoulder blades from staying so still and tense. What if…she actually _liked_ the guy that she picked? What if she actually _enjoyed_ it? What if she forgot to pretend? What if…she fell in love? What if he lost her? He was so lost in his own thoughts, drowning in his self-inflicted agony, that when she spun around suddenly, all his senses were startled to alertness.

Reflexively, he reared away from her sudden movement, and his chair crashed noisily to the ground.

"Alec!" Max yelped in surprise. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching. Her brown gaze moved around the room, as if to assess whether there was trouble. Finding none, she fixed her eyes back onto him with a small frown. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, turned around to grab the chair off the floor. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Max sounded a little _concerned_. He righted the fallen chair and slowly turned to face her.

"Have you been doing nothing the whole time?" she demanded, the edge returning into her voice.

He didn't answer, but instead shrugged and dropped his frame back down onto his chair. He slid low into his seat, so that he was draped laconically on it.

Max looked heavenward and sighed. "Can't you just…I dunno…be _useful_?"

He gave her a stony glare. "What? And miss out on the fun of pissing you off?"

They glared at each other, brown eyes locked coldly with hazel ones. Alec arrogantly cocked an eyebrow at her in question. "Well? What about you? You were the one who was so excited to throw me over for some other dickhead." He couldn't help but be a little bitter about the issue, his lips curling distastefully.

Max's beautiful face was completely expressionless. "I'm just doing what needs to be done. Why can't _you_?"

"Oh yeah," he drawled sarcastically. "So we can go back to normal, whatever that means."

He saw Max fight her temper, saw the way her lips tightened, her jaw clenched, and there was a small, almost invisible twitch in the corner of her right eye. It was amazing how much he knew about Max, how every little thing about her mattered to him.

As if with supreme effort, she took a deep breath and looked passively at him. "Can we just…forget about it?"

Alec knew she was right. They had a job to do, and if they bickered all day, they would lose this opportunity to go over the evidence. He took a deep breath, feeling resigned. Broken heart or not, above all else, he was a soldier—and he was on a mission. "Fine," he replied curtly. He grabbed a series of discs and turned to face his monitor doing his best to ignore Max.

In a moment, he heard her turn her back to him again, facing her own monitor.

A while later he leaned back with a weary sigh. "How about her?" he pointed towards the screen at a lovely young blonde with considerable assets. She was talking and laughing flirtatiously with her "late" husband. A glance at the date stamp on the video showed that this surveillance wasn't even a year old yet.

Max glanced cursorily over towards his monitor and frowned. "She looks cross-eyed."

"Really?" He leaned forward to zoom in on the video. "Huh." So her eyes were a little close together, but it was barely noticeable, only if he really looked. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and figured that there would be other girls. He ejected the CD and slipped another one in. A video of the next featured woman flickered to life on his monitor. She was a redhead this time. "Her."

Max frowned and made a small _pfft_ noise.

"What's that _pfft_ for?"

"She's too skinny."

Alec rolled his eyes. He'd probably already seen eighteen videos, which meant eighteen different girls. Thanks to his superb memory, he could vouch with a hundred percent certainty that he'd at least seen twelve of the same girls on the ship they were on now.

But according to Max, each one had either been "too tall," or "had big teeth," or "too short," or "laughed like a hyena," or so on and so forth. And yeah, some of what Max said were true, but no one was really perfect. After all, none of them was a genetically-engineered bad-ass with long dark hair and an attitude.

He looked over his shoulder towards Max and sighed under his breath. To be honest, he didn't really care which one he picked. The one he really wanted was looking at her own set of videos and picking another man over him.

His eyes slid over the particular man she was looking at, some slick looking young guy with dark hair and light-colored eyes. He also had a long-ish face. "He looks like a horse," he snorted.

"He does not!" she cried out indignantly, but her eyes glanced sideways to study the young man again. A moment later, she wordlessly replaced the disc with another one. The next video loaded onto the screen. He pursed his lips in annoyance, because the guy that appeared on-screen smiled and had goddamned _dimples_. For the love of all that was manly, the guy had dimples. On _both_ cheeks.

And Max was smiling at the dimples. "He's kinda cute," she commented, half-under her breath.

Sure. Cute. Like a harmless, little puppy, he thought with disdain. But then the screen panned out, and revealed a very not-cute physique. Suddenly cute was now _competition_.

"Mmmm…" Max all but moaned. Alec's mouth dropped into a small, disbelieving 'O'. "He's bowlegged!" he blurted out.

Max turned to look at him, an eyebrow cocked. "So are you."

"Am not!"

The eyebrow rose a bit higher.

He frowned. "Okay, okay…_maybe _I am _mildly_ bowlegged," he started. She gave him an incredulous look. He raised both hands up in mock surrender. "It was all those drills during my developmental stage, I swear. Too much impact on my young bones! Caused a hell of a lot of growth-plate fractures, too. But you know, it was Manticore, they believed that whatever didn't kill us only made us stronger…they made us…" he trailed off and cleared his throat which suddenly felt tight and dry.

He couldn't keep the bitterness from replacing the comic indignation in his voice the moment he mentioned Manticore. Thinking about the place just brought too much resentment bubbling to the surface. At best, he was usually able to focus on the many trivial issues throughout the day, leaving him with little time to sit and brood. He shouldn't have mentioned Manticore. Nothing could kill a conversation better between Transgenincs like bringing up Manticore memories.

He ducked his head slightly and licked his lips. He cleared his throat again before casually throwing a glance over at Max to see whether she noticed his slip-up.

She was looking at him with soft eyes. His heart skipped a beat at the almost tender and _caring _look in those dark eyes. Her small, white teeth peeked out as she bit her lower lip, and he couldn't help but lick his own lips in response. "Look, I'm sorry about bringing it up," he said hastily.

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "It's okay. It's not like I don't understand where you're coming from. Besides, bowlegs aren't so bad." Her smile turned playful, and she threw an appreciative glance at him. Her eyes traveled over his face, pausing at his lips, then down his jaw, his chest—he wondered whether she could see how painfully fast his heart was beating against his chest cavity—and moved even lower. Her eyes settled briefly at a very sensitive area and he almost groaned out loud. Then she smiled as she looked down at his legs.

He knew that if she kept on looking like that—no matter how teasingly—he was bound to do something rash and stupid. Like grabbing her from her chair and hauling her over towards him…and then kissing both of them into a mindless puddle of jelly.

He cleared his throat audibly. "Well, then, if you don't mind, then go ahead, pick Dimply-Dude," he said quickly, gesturing towards the man on her screen.

Max's head swung up and their eyes met. She had an inscrutable expression on her face. She blinked a couple of times, before finally looking back at her screen. Her lips tightened momentarily, before she smiled brightly. "You're right. I will."

Alec couldn't decide whether to be relieved or frustrated. Had he really just pushed Max towards another man? Geez, he was an idiot. With a grimace, he turned to face his own screen and stared at the redhead laughing in the video. "So, when do we start?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Tonight."

* * *

This was going to kill him.

Alec had to shove his free hand deep into his tuxedo pockets because it had clenched into such a tight fist he was surprised his knuckles hadn't popped out through skin yet. He focused on keeping his other hand from snapping the thin stem of the champagne glass he held in his other hand.

They only stood a few feet away from each other, at the edge of the ballroom's dance floor. He counted sildently in his head as he watched as Max threw back her head to laugh. Her long dark hair swung around, caressing the bare back revealed by another seductive dress.

Her gown was red. She stood out like a flame amidst the other women wearing black and ivory. Heads turned everywhere she walked.

Everywhere _they_ walked.

Alec had to admit that Max and her "chosen one" were a striking pair. Both dark-haired, sun-kissed skin, and glowing dark eyes. Max was beautiful and he had _dimples_. Seriously, how was a guy to compete with that?

Alec gritted his teeth as Max laid a hand on David's chest. Her wedding band glittered underneath the ship's ballroom lights, but they both managed to ignore it, as they smiled into each other's eyes.

Bile rose up his chest and he felt a burning sensation somewhere within the vicinity of his heart. He didn't realize he was clutching his chest until a slender hand covered his. "Alec?"

He quickly averted his eyes away from Max and down towards brilliant blue ones of his escort. "Are you feeling all right?" Miranda asked quietly. She had a low voice, sultry and built for seduction. Even when she was asking after his health, there was a tone that implied she would not mind taking him to bed.

Alec released his grip over his chest and smoothed out his dinner jacket. "I must have swallowed my champagne a little too fast," he smiled urbanely at her.

She quirked thin, but perfect, lips in a smile that said she didn't quite believe him but would leave the matter to rest. Alec appreciated her discretion. In her line of work, he was sure she had overlooked a lot in her many partners. Her eyes slid slowly over towards Max, then returned back up to his face.

"Why are you doing this?"

Alec's face went blank into a polite mask of inquiry. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently, picking her hand and slowly rubbing lazy circles over her knuckles with his thumb.

"I mean her." She replied, nodding towards Max, who was only a few feet away from them, trailing her fingers down her escort's jacket sleeve.

Alec gritted his teeth. He had to be careful. This girl was a master at the game of deception. He was being too transparent. His feelings for Max were already jeopardizing his cover. He smiled tightly at her. "Oh. Well, you know how it is," he drawled. "Daddy's money can make you do anything—including marrying a woman you couldn't possibly love." He said that last line just a little bit louder than necessary.

He saw Max throw a fleeting, indecipherable look his way. Their eyes met for a second, but that was all it took to make him feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Her eyes had widened slightly and her full lips formed a small 'o.' It was almost like he had _hurt _her.

Alec pressed his lips together tightly, fighting away the stab of guilt in his heart. He couldn't possibly hurt her. Max didn't care one way or another. Or did she? He couldn't hurt her unless she cared. His heart skipped a beat at the sheer possibility of it.

He looked towards her again.

And almost forgot how to breathe.

There she was, a flame in her red dress, locked in the arms of another man, kissing him in the middle of the ship's grand ballroom for all the world to see.

Jealousy and rage almost blinded his vision, almost made him give in to his animal nature, almost made him come between the kissing couple and rip them apart like two rag dolls. Almost…but not quite.

Because it _hurt_. It hurt to move. It hurt to make a sound. It _hurt_ too goddamned much to do anything about it. The pain grounded him. The pain turned his face into a stony mask. The pain gripped his heart in ice, choking everything inside of him.

He felt a hand snake up his chest, and his hazel-green eyes locked with Miranda's cool blue ones. "Well, it looks like she couldn't possibly love you either."

His mouth tasted like ash, his heart felt like ice, and his voice burned with chilling flatness. "You're right. She couldn't possibly." With that, he bent his head and took Miranda's lips with his own in a searing, punishing kiss.

This wasn't just a mission anymore. This was _war_.

**TBC...**

**Thank you for reading! I appreciate reviews and feedback.**


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